


Shore Leave Mishap

by SmutShipper



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Cock Tease, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Forced Orgasm, Orgasm Delay/Denial, caught in a compromising position, sex flowers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-12 15:54:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28762911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmutShipper/pseuds/SmutShipper
Summary: Jean-Luc Picard's penchant for exploration backfires, leading him into a compromising position with Risa plant life. Takes place between "All Good Things" and "Generations," though will go AU before the movie.If you've read anything I wrote, you know my brand by now ;) Another smutty muse that I finally got out of my head.Originally planned as a one-shot, it took on a life of its own (after a few requests for more :)). Future chapters are a bit more angsty/relationship-driven. Unsure of how many chapters this will be, but feedback is much appreciated!
Relationships: Beverly Crusher/Jean-Luc Picard
Comments: 11
Kudos: 28





	1. Pleasure Plants

Shore leave. Something Captain Jean-Luc Picard rarely indulged in, much to the dismay of his chief medical officer. However, this time, when the good doctor pointed out that it had been over a year since his last “get away,” Picard had finally acquiesced to her request. He’d been to Risa before, and felt he knew what to expect this time around, and how to avoid any unwanted situations. 

But as he lay in his quarters back on the Enterprise, Picard cursed Dr. Beverly Crusher for encouraging him on this venture. It really was not her fault. He had been so eager to explore that he had proceeded without much caution. He should have known better than to interact with indigenous plant life without doing more research.

Stripped naked, Picard got up from his bed to stare at his reflection in the mirror. He flashed back to earlier that same day, as he was exploring some old ruins outside the city. He caught a sweet scent that led him to a field of abnormally large flowers. Taking one in his hand, he examined it, inhaling deeply. His first mistake.

“Mmm,” he sighed, letting out a pleasing rumble. His fingers explored the petals. They were moist and incredibly soft, feeling like silk to his touch. A part of him was puzzled – he wasn’t a botanist, more interested in archeology than flora. But for some reason he felt drawn to it, his curiosity piqued by its unique scent and shape. He gasped as his finger accidently slipped toward the center of the flower. He felt a light tingle as it began vibrating against him.

“What are you up to?” he said aloud, almost amused. Then he felt it. His heart lurched, the blood rushing to his groin painfully.

“Ahhh!” he moaned, his hips thrusting involuntarily. He had never been aroused so quickly. His thoughts became clouded, feeling drugged, the need to cum overwhelming him suddenly. He found himself undoing his pants right out in the open, stripping his shirt until he was completely naked in the field. As if watching himself from above, Picard was appalled by these actions that seemed to be happening against his will. 

“Oh…oh dear,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with arousal as he watched the flower bend down on its own toward his hot, throbbing cock. His arms seemed immobile – his entire being now desperate to know what the flower would feel like around his aching member.

“AHHH!” he cried in a high-pitched tone as the flower suckled on his tip, drawing out precum. “Oh god, oh…oh my…oh…what…AHHHH!”

Slowly, it drew him in deeper, down the large stem. Inside the flower, the sensation of tiny, soft petals tickled along his shaft and over his sensitive slit. There was a wet heat enveloping him, causing his hips to buck in need. 

“Oh, oh! That…that tickles…so soft….oh my… oh it’s…you devious little…ahhhh merde!”

Other flowers began to draw near, their stems bending, as if sensing his arousal, as if they were feeding off it. 

“Oh no…” he gasped, realizing what he was dealing with. He had read about pleasure plants, but had never encountered one. Of course they grew on Risa, he thought – how foolish he was for not remembering this! He just hoped it would be over quickly.

The other flowers began to rub against him, finding his extra sensitive nipples and swiping their silken petals along the hardened nubs. Another tickled along his abdomen, teasing him as they traced his muscled stomach, causing him to laugh and groan at the light sensation. Another circled his firm buttocks, his cheeks tensing in nervous pleasure. When he felt a tongue-like vine licking at his balls, he began to panic.

“Oh please…oh please…” He wasn’t sure what he was begging for – release from his tormentors or orgasm – probably both.

The vine began teasing between his butt cheeks, emitting a wetness before sliding suddenly deep inside him, probing.

“AHHHH!” he screamed as it accurately hit its mark – his prostate. The vine tickled it lightly, making his need to release even more urgent. Meanwhile, the flower on his cock suckled harder, vibrating and rippling around him. The pleasure was so intense, and he was surprised he hadn’t succumb to orgasm yet. 

“Oh god…ohhhh please…ohhh…let me g-go….ohhh let me … let me…cum!” he cried, his hips thrusting wildly now, not caring if anyone saw him. Inside the vise-like grip, he could feel tiny nubs rasping on every sensitive bit of his flesh. It had pulled his foreskin back, and the direct teasing on his sensitive tip was driving him mad, making him quiver and whimper as he endured the seemingly unending torment. Picard drifted between moans and deep chuckles as the intensity lightened, the sensations rippling over him like a soft tickle. Sweat dripped from his brow, his eyes wide on the edge of pleasure. He tried to exam the flower more closely, even in his sexual haze. Blue petals marked with a red streak. His mind reeled. He was fucked. And not in a good way.

His body flushed and shaking, Picard knew he needed help. But the one person he could contact at the moment was also the one person he never wanted to find him like this. He struggled to cum, he struggled for control, he struggled to make peace with the fact that he was going to have to call for help before his heart gave out.

Twisting, he reached down to grab his pants, the flowers never leaving him as he pulled out his com badge. Trying to steady his voice, he swallowed.

“Pi-Picard to Doc-Doctor C-Crush!” he shouted, his voice hoarse.

“Crusher here. Captain, are you alright? You sound … strange.”

“I … I am in need…ohhh…of your assistance, doctor. Please.”

“Jean-Luc, you should have contacted the Enterprise, have them beam you directly to Sickbay.”

“NO!” he shouted, not wanting to be seen this way by his crew. It was an awful choice, but he trusted Beverly, whom he knew was only a short distance away. He and Beverly had gone out together that day, but had split up, as Beverly had stopped at a local village to shop. 

Calming his voice so as not to alarm her, he continued, “Beverly, it’s not … it’s not life threatening … at least not yet.”

“Not yet? Jean-Luc, what the devil is going on?”

“It seems…ohhhh…it seems I have…ahhhh… encountered…oh god…a particularly devious species of … mmmmm…passion plants,” he choked out, embarrassed by his moans.

“Ah,” Beverly replied, swallowing. “I see. Any idea what kind?”

“Can’t…ah, recall the name, but it’s … blue with a red stripe,” he sighed. “There are … quite a lot of them.”

Licking her lips, Beverly braced herself, knowing what she might find once she got to him. Checking her med kit, she pulled out a hypospray and filled it with a blue liquid.

“Do you have a transporter in the area?” she asked the person in charge of the shop she’d been browsing.

“Yes, ma’am. This way.”

She tapped her com badge. “Jean-Luc, hold on. I’m on my way. They can beam me to you. I’m going to have them lock on your signal.”

Between a few sobs Picard acknowledged her statement, tossing his com badge as far from him as he could. He didn’t want her showing up too close. As he heard the familiar sound of the transporter, he squeezed his eyes shut, swallowing hard. 

As she materialized, Beverly made a conscious effort to focus on the flora at first, not wanting to embarrass the captain. But she couldn’t help the warmth that pooled in her stomach as her eyes eventually found his form, entrapped by several flowers that were obviously suckling him to new heights of pleasure. She had read about the passion plants, and this one was a most devious creature.

“Jean-Luc,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady. “How long have you…”

“I’m not sure,” he gasped, avoiding her gaze. “Maybe twenty minutes, maybe an hour…I don’t know.”

He was breathless, unable to stop the lewd movements of his body as he sought release – a release he realized would not be coming as long as the flowers were attached to him.

“Doctor…are they…”

“Yes,” she swallowed hard. “They’re teasers. While they grow and are nourished similar to most plant life, they seem to have a keen taste for … for the human male.”

“Not just the human male,” he countered.

“No, for … pre-ejaculate fluid.”

“Merde!” he shouted, sobbing at the pleasure and the humiliation.

“I’ll get you out of this,” she reassured him.

“Can…ahhh…can you remove them?” he asked, his voice trembling.

“I’m afraid not,” she swallowed, trying her best to be professional. “If I cut them, there could be damage to the … areas where they are attached. Their grip is quite insistent.”

“I see,” he whispered, his face twisted in sensual agony.

“Don’t worry, Captain, I have dealt with this before and I have a plan,” she replied reassuringly.

Out of habit, she touched his chest, her hand over his heart, and could feel the mechanical device beating at an accelerated pace. At her touch he lurched and cried, and she pulled back quickly.

“Sorry,” she gasped. Beverly was good at masking her emotions but seeing this man she often fantasized about in this state was causing her body to involuntarily react – flushing with arousal.

Beverly also knew she had to get Picard out of this predicament soon, or even his mechanical heart might not be able to take the strain. Pulling out the hypospray she had recently filled, she pressed it into his neck, injecting the fluid. Then she braced herself, knowing what was about to happen. 

“AHHHHHHH!” Picard screamed, his cock suddenly jerking inside the flower, swelling as pent-up cum rushed up the root to the tip, bursting with a deep pleasure out of him. His balls squeezed and clenched, the sensations causing him to writhe and cry out with relief.

Beverly tried to avert her eyes, but was shamed that she could not. The sight of him flushed with pleasure, finding his release, sent a gush of moisture through her sex, her clit throbbing as she brought her hand back to his chest, feeling his heartbeat and hot breath.

“Ohhh…ohhh…ohhhh…” he moaned continuously. Beverly knew this would be one of the longest, most intense orgasms he ever had, due to the chemical compounds inside the flowers coupled with the medication she had given him.

“It’s alright, they’re backing off,” she reassured him, watching as the flowers began to pull away, the main one sliding off his spent member with a seductive pop.

Picard collapsed to the ground, curling up in a ball, his hand reaching for his cock, trying to ease the pleasure he was still experiencing. Beverly knelt down beside him, covering him with his jacket that she had found on ground.

“It’s alright,” she whispered, soothing her hand over his back.

“Thank you, doctor,” he said in a raspy voice, trying to find some semblance of professionalism. “What was … what did you do?”

“I, um… as I said, I know these particular types of flora react…negatively to male ejaculate.”

“It’s why I couldn’t cum,” he said. “So you…”

He looked back to her and she blushed, but kept eye contact, wanting to reassure him everything was fine between them.

“What exactly was in that hypospray?” he asked.

“Jean-Luc, I’m sorry, I should’ve explained first, I-”

“No, no I … I was just wondering…if I could get a vial,” he smirked.

“Well, only if you find yourself in this predicament again,” she smiled back. “You’re not the first crewman to encounter these plants. Whenever we come to Risa, I make sure I have this special blend on hand. It neutralizes the chemicals from the flowers that inhibit orgasm.”

“Ah, I see,” he nodded, blushing.

“Jean-Luc … I should tell you, there are some … lingering side effects.”

“Oh?” he groaned, sitting up with his jacket covering his lap. Beverly reached for his trousers, handing them to him and turning away as he began to get dressed. However, her efforts to afford him some privacy were in vain as she heard him moan and shout suddenly.

“Jean-Luc!” she called, turning around to see another flower trying to envelope his exposed cock. It had only brushed the tip and she swatted it away immediately, pushing him back.

“Thank you,” he gasped, still dizzy from his prior experience and shockingly feeling his erection return. “Damn, these have … very strong effects, don’t they?” He turned around and began to slide on his pants, leaning against her for support.

“Indeed,” she commented with a nervous grin. “Perhaps this is a discussion best to be had on the Enterprise?”

“Agreed,” he swallowed, shoving his erection into his pants, trying to will it away. He was still breathing heavily as she pulled out her tricorder. “Beverly?”

“Just monitoring your vitals,” she replied softly as he pulled on his shirt and jacket.

He went to grab his com badge, but she stopped him, reminding him of the proximity of the flowers. Instead she went, snatching it up and making the call.

“Crusher to Enterprise, two to beam directly to sick bay.”

“Acknowledged.”

As the pull of the transporter beam gripped them both, Beverly gave him a wide smile, filled with reassurance and something else he couldn’t quite place. Picard felt a strange warmth tingle through him, and it wasn’t the transporter – when they rematerialized he had a sneaking suspicion she would be monitoring his recovery VERY closely, and he found himself not minding one bit.

TO BE CONTINUED...


	2. Clarity in the Chaos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, some were asking for more...This story kind of took on a life of its own, and I'm not sure how many chapters it will end up being. Also, it sort of went in a surprising direction - some heavy angst and comfort ahead, along with some smut (hey, it's in my name lol). Let me know if you like it!

It was 0300 hours. Picard shook himself from his thoughts as he splashed water on his face. He was running a fever, his chest hair matted down from sweat, his taught, naked body shivering and burning at the same time. Beverly had warned him of this, along with other unwanted side effects from the pleasure plants that had attacked him earlier.

But it was more than just the physical side effects. The depression and sadness was weighing on him – the let down from the hard physical release, the fatigue. And the desperate loneliness. His mind felt jumbled, pulling his deepest desires and dreads to the forefront. He could almost liken it to his experience with Ambassador Sarek, when he had shared his mind that had been thrown into turmoil due to Bendii Syndrome. Picard’s own mind felt tormented now as he recalled the way he angrily dismissed Beverly’s concerns earlier and made his way to his quarters. She had wanted him to remain in Sick Bay…

“I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself,” Picard snapped, feeling somewhat irritated by her poking and prodding as he lay on the bio-bed.

“Jean-Luc, all I’m saying is the experience can be quite intense.”

“You said most men are able to recover within 24 hours without any lingering effects.”

“Those men didn’t live alone-”

“Isolated, you mean?” Picard snapped, feeling his anger rise. His initial enthusiasm at having Beverly monitor his condition soured quickly when he realized the lack of privacy and some of the more unpleasant side effects he would be facing. His agitation was almost irrational. Beverly seemed to recognize his emotions were coming closer to the surface than he typically allowed. She also knew where that anger might have been coming from – the experience on Kesprytt, and what had – or rather had not – transpired afterwards. 

“I didn’t say isolated,” she replied gently. “I’m only concerned with how your body will react to the residual chemicals in your system. You had a higher exposure rate, and there are prior cases of men going mad, even hurting themselves…”

“I will confine myself to quarters for the next 24 hours per your directive,” he said tersely, his body tensing. “And if I should be confronted with a sudden urge to hurl myself out of the shuttle bay, I will let you know, doctor.”

Beverly hadn’t followed him, and he couldn’t blame her with the way he’d acted. It had been a lonely evening for him, and as the fever took hold, making his body ache, he felt his mind slipping, his emotions fighting to the surface. In anger, he ripped off his uniform. In desperation, he rubbed his hardened cock, which throbbed and itched from the residual chemicals left behind by the insidious pleasure plant. His nipples burned, his balls aching heavy, to say nothing for the tingling on his prostate and other unmentionable areas. He rubbed more furiously as he dropped onto his favorite chair, breathing heavily, feeling no relief. She had warned him of this too – his inability to reach orgasm for the next 24 hours. Another wonderful side effect, he thought sarcastically. He could get close, but never quite over the edge. When she’d mentioned this particular torture that would befall him, he had groaned, asking for another dose of the medication she had administered when he was attached to the flora. However, she had said it was too dangerous – that she could only give one dose within a 24-hour period.

“I wonder,” he growled, teeth clenching. Wondered what? He wasn’t quite sure, but part of him felt like she enjoyed keeping him dangling, on edge, in so many ways. There was a big part of him that wanted to give Beverly a piece of his mind – that wanted to express all these emotions bubbling up inside him. Anger, fear, need – all covering the one emotion he suppressed most – his deep love for her.

“Why?” he choked out, his tired hand slowing along his aching shaft, tears pricking his eyes. It was another layered question: Why was this happening? Why was he alone? Why couldn’t she be with him? What the hell was she afraid of?

Blinking back his tears, he got up and walked over to the mirror, staring, remembering their encounter on Risa, all they’d been through on the Enterprise, and before then, the Stargazer. Had it really been almost 20 years of loving this woman that he could never truly have?

“Beverly,” he sighed brokenly, tears beginning to fall as he realized it wasn’t Beverly keeping him on edge. In this moment, he remembered why he’d denied himself for so long, why he blocked her advances early on when she first came aboard the Enterprise. “You’re a damn fool,” he laughed pitifully, disgusted by his own reflection. He had pushed her away first.

There was no doubt he wanted her, even before she was married to Jack…but he wanted command more – cared more about a career in Starfleet than anything else. Never wanted a family, children. He could never give her what she needed. But Jack could. Jack was a good man, a fun lad, a true friend who lived life like an open book – nothing to hide, nothing sullen about him. She deserved a man like Jack, but he had even taken that from her… had let him die under his command. 

What’s worse, Picard’s love for Jack ran deep – he would say Jack was like a brother, but his prior experience with his own brother made him cringe at the thought. No, Jack wasn’t like the brother he grew up with – he was the brother who understood him, who stood by him, who always had his back. Yet in the end he let Jack down – and not just by losing him that awful day. 

He yearned for Beverly. Desperately. And it wasn’t right. Not even after Jack’s death. So he abandoned his dear friend - his best friend’s wife - along with his best friend’s son. He escaped to the Stargazer because it was easier for him, not because it was best for Beverly or her five-year-old boy. He left her alone to care for Wesley, while she was just starting her career. 

Wiping his eyes, Picard bit his lip, beginning to see things from Beverly’s point of view. What was she afraid of?

Imagining her during those long, lonely days and months following Jack’s death, he realized even a subspace message from him now and then would likely have been appreciated. The despair she must have felt, the emptiness, warring with the need to be strong for her son. Who did she lean on, he wondered, knowing only that it wasn’t him. That he had allowed her to suffer alone. As he was now alone…

“My god,” he rasped, beginning to sob. The anger inside him began to dissipate, replaced by something else – a desperation, a deep desire to see her, to hold her, to feel her heart beat against him. 

Grabbing his robe, he called out, “Computer, location of Dr. Crusher.”

TO BE CONTINUED...


	3. Saying the Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lots of angst and UST here! Picard finally opens up to Beverly about his new revelations while still under the influence of the Pleasure Plant's side effects.

“Computer, location of Dr. Crusher," Picard barked out, tightening the belt around his robe.

“Dr. Crusher is in her quarters.”

Wiping his brow, Picard took a deep breath, then walked out of his quarters, clad only his robe as he made his way to the turbolift. The last time he had left his quarters in such a state, he was moving through time in one of Q’s strange warnings that had apparently helped him save humanity. While that disorientation was jarring and confusing, this was more gutteral, more driven by instinct and emotion. 

Picard felt as if he was unraveling as memories of Kesprytt suddenly assaulted him – the feelings he experienced coming from her mind. He was so caught up in trying to hide his own that he hadn’t considered the intensity of hers. Pain, fear, loss, desire – and when she pushed him through the force field, leaving herself to be captured, the waves of emotion between them created an intimacy so intense he thought he might die on the spot. He could feel her love for him, her willingness to give her life to keep him safe. It broke his heart. In those few short moments when he thought he was going to lose her, that he could do nothing but watch as the oppressors grabbed her arm and yanked her away from him, fear gripped him. His face was a mask, vacant and drawn taught, but his mind was raging. She could feel his anger – knowing he wished she hadn’t pushed him through – and his fear, the intensity of his terror at losing her.

“Deck 8,” Picard called as he stepped into the turbolift. He was pacing around, his hand raking over his bald scalp, ignoring his painful arousal as he shut his eyes and hoped no one would join him in the lift. 

As the doors opened, he sighed in relief. He was grateful for the early hour, the empty corridors, as he made his way to Beverly’s quarters. Leaning against the doorway, he took another deep breath, wiping a hand over his face as he fought for some slight composure. He pressed the call button and waited, then pressed it again, feeling impatient. Despite the time, the urge to see her was wearing him down.

When he finally heard her call, and the doors slid open, Picard was confronted with a bleary and concerned pair of ocean-blue eyes.

“Jean-Luc? Are you alright?” she rasped, her silk robe covering her sleepwear.

“No,” he freely admitted. “I need to see you.”

Placing her hand on his forehead, she gripped his arm and dragged him into her quarters, immediately going into “doctor” mode.

“You’re burning up,” she sighed, sitting him down in a chair as she grabbed her tricorder, studying its readings carefully.

“Beverly…” he whispered in exhaustion. “I need to … I didn’t understand until now… But I do, I understand everything…”

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” she sighed, shaking her head. “We need to get your fever down.”

“Won’t work,” he replied sadly. “It’s always here.”

“Jean-Luc, what are you-”

She followed his gaze as he looked sadly down to his middle, where his erection had created an obscene outline under his robe. She an arched an eyebrow, noting that his inhibitions had definitely dropped, almost as if he were inebriated.

“I don’t suppose you could help me with that, doctor?” he half-laughed, near delirium.

Rolling her eyes, she pulled him up. “Not the way you’d like, I’m sure,” she half-smiled, but there was a sadness behind her teasing gaze as she led him to her bathroom. One of the perks of being a senior officer was having a shower and bath. As she began to turn on the water, Picard arched an eyebrow.

“Don’t get any ideas,” she warned, her back turned as she tested the temperature. “A cold shower will do you wonders.” 

Groaning, Picard shrugged, losing his robe without any concern for privacy. It caught Beverly off guard as she turned back from the shower. She couldn’t hide her blush as her eyes involuntarily took in his compact, muscled form, or her eyes from widening at the seven inches of hardness curving upward against his stomach. She could almost feel his heat. Arousal gripped her stomach, then lower. ‘Damn it, not now,’ she thought to herself.

“I’d ask if you’d care to join me, but I don’t believe this will be very pleasant,” he rumbled in a low voice, his speech almost slurred. He walked past her, his hardened cock inadvertently brushing lightly against her robe as he stepped into the shower. 

“Ah! God, Beverly!” he cried as the cold water hit all of him at once, causing him to recoil and shift on his feet in a way she might have found adorable in another situation.

“Just give it a few minutes, you’ll get used to it,” she encouraged, her back turned to him now as she bit her lip. In her fantasies, she’d dreamed of seeing him wet and hard in her shower, but not like this, not with his faculties compromised. She had to hold it together.

“Do you enjoy torturing all your patients like this, or just me?” he asked sardonically as cold water sprayed over his heated body, cooling him a bit. 

“Most of my patients listen when I ask them to remain in Sick Bay,” she countered.

“Only because of your charm,” he retorted.

“Oh? Charming am I? Apparently not nearly enough to convince you of the gravity of your situation.”

“I have become well aware of it,” he replied, his voice quiet and sad. He stood still under the stream now, allowing it to ripple over his body. The cold cut like a knife, but he forced himself to take it – the pain was a good distraction. “Beverly, you were wrong before, you know.”

This elicited another eye-roll as she worried about where all this would go. “Wrong about what?” she asked in exasperation, speaking to him over her shoulder, still refusing to look for fear of taking advantage of the situation.

“I knew exactly what I was saying before, when I said I understand now…I do, Beverly. You were wrong a few minutes ago, but you were right that night, after Kesprytt.”

“Jean-Luc, let’s not-”

“I have to,” he shouted, clenching his fists as he moved one arm up against the wall, resting his head on it. “Whatever is happening to me … it’s made me realize … you were right to be afraid.”

Feeling her begin to walk away, Picard panicked.

“Please don’t leave!” he cried, jumping out of the shower and gripping her arm, forcing her to turn toward him. He was soaked, but that didn’t hide the tears in his eyes, or the erection that refused to go down. 

“Jean-Luc, please let go,” she whispered, averting his gaze, trying desperately not to gawk at his arousing form. He wasn’t a tall man, standing nose to nose with her now, as they were both barefoot and nearly the same height. Alarm bells were going off in her head, realizing how perfectly aligned they were – a perfect fit, as their middles were directly adjacent. He wasn’t letting go of her, and she knew all she had to do was move an inch further and she would be brushing up against his…

“Jean-Luc, please,” Beverly rasped, her arousal evident. 

“I need you to hear this,” he replied firmly, yet slowly relaxed his grip. His chest was heaving, but she could tell he was fighting his own arousal, trying to tell her something that went deeper than just their physical attraction

“I would say I’d never hurt you,” he began slowly, “but I know that isn’t true. I have hurt you, deeply, and I’ve continued to over all these years. I hid the truth from you, about my feelings, for so long … and I abandoned you and Wesley after Jack…after the accident…and I will always put my career above all else. You’re right to be afraid. I’m a dull mess of a man, far below your stature. You deserve so much more. But I’m too damn selfish to let you go. I can’t stop … I can’t stop loving you…”

He’d said it. Out loud. For the first time. Even on Kesprytt he hadn’t admitted it – she’d said it for him. And then he had said he no longer felt that way. Despite their minds being connected, he still shielded her from his love. But now here it was, out in the open, and not a damn thing either of them could do to take it back. But Beverly decided she would give him one last chance to find a way out.

“You’re delirious,” she swallowed, her words soft and sad. She didn’t want to hear this, especially not now, not when he was in yet another compromised state.

“I may delirious, but I’m not lying, and I’m not hiding anymore, Beverly,” he said, his hazel eyes conveying the ache and sadness stirring inside him. He stood before her naked in every way, vulnerable. 

“I know,” she finally rasped, cupping his face. “But … we shouldn’t be talking about this now, not in your condition…”

“It’s only helping me see things more clearly,” he insisted, placing his hands on her shoulders. “I love you, deeply, terrifyingly so. But maybe it’s true what they say … if you love someone, truly them, you will be able to let them go. I think I’m finally ready to do that, Beverly.”

“Jean-Luc, what are you saying?”

“On Kesprytt, I heard you, your thoughts,” he whispered. “You came back to the Enterprise for Wesley, but he left long ago. You stayed on the Enterprise for me – and yes, for your career and the friends we have here – but you’ve tired of Starfleet’s rules and regulations that so often conflict with your duties as a doctor. You’re not happy here, and you haven’t been for awhile now.”

Unable to deny his words, Beverly ducked her head as she felt a tear escape. 

“You deserve someone who loves you above all things. It’s why we didn’t work out in the timeline Q showed me.”

“Jean-Luc, we agreed not speak of this, not to let it influence-”

“It was wrong not to tell you, I see that now,” he replied sadly. “In that timeline, after our marriage and my poor diagnosis, I pushed you away, resented your career as mine was forced to end due to my illness. I didn’t love you enough to accompany you on the Pasteur as a mere civilian. And I didn’t love you enough to let you try to heal me.”

“Jean-Luc,” she rasped, biting her lip as she met his gaze. 

“After the Pasteur was destroyed, you doubted me, and you had every reason to. I had just led your nearly defenseless medical ship into a dangerous mission, which led to its destruction and killed at least one member of your crew. But did I care? No, I snapped at you instead.”

“The way you explained it, all of humanity was at stake,” she countered. “There was no time for consideration of my feelings. You had a universe to save.”

“But that’s just it, don’t you see?” he replied sadly. “It will always be this way with me. Always off on some other adventure, bringing existence to the brink. And how long before it costs me the people I hold most dear?”

“You were the one who said the future is not written in stone,” she rasped, sniffling. “None of us are guaranteed anything. All we have is the here and now. And in the here and now, you are ill and I need to get you to bed.” 

“I’m not worth it, Beverly,” he said, resisting her pull on his arm as he cupped her face gently. “Go be a doctor. Go be a doctor while you still can. It’s who you are, it’s what makes you whole. And I refuse to stand in your way any longer.”

Brushing past her, he grabbed his robe, throwing it on as he retreated. 

TO BE CONTINUED...


	4. Lovesick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beverly comforts Picard in his time of need as the captain struggles for control. Confessions are made as the pair tries to find some resolution to their relationship.
> 
> Lots of angst, callbacks to several TNG episodes and some definite sexual tension between our dynamic duo. 
> 
> WARNING: There is a mention of a suicide in this chapter, as well as a brief mention of sexual trauma (not Picard or Beverly).

“Jean-Luc, I’m not leaving you like this,” she called, darting after him. Before he could reach the entrance, she caught him, standing in front of the door.

“Computer, secure quarters,” she commanded.

“You know I can override it,” Picard sighed, looking her in the eye.

“Not if I relieve you of duty,” she countered. “Please, Jean-Luc. You are experiencing extreme mental, physical and emotional distress because of the chemicals in your system. You just need to hold on a little longer … 12 hours and you’ll be fine.”

Pursing his lips, he took a deep breath. “So you’re holding me hostage?” Though his words sounded dramatic, she could see a slight teasing smile as he relented.

“Well, you could’ve listened to me and stayed in Sick Bay,” she offered in a light voice.

Giving her a half smile, he nodded, thrusting his hands into the pockets of his robe as she gripped his arm and led him to her couch.

“Sit, I’ll get you some tea,” she offered, moving to the replicator and trying to put all of his recent words out of her mind.

Picard glanced around her quarters. He realized how rare it was that he came here, another pang of guilt lancing through him. Why did he always make her come to him for breakfast or socializing? He knew the answer – he had to be in control, on his own home turf. It kept him grounded.

His erection continued to pulse insistently, causing him distress as he right knee began to bounce. He shouldn’t have come here, and now he was stuck.

“Here,” Beverly said, setting a pot of tea in front of him and pouring one cup for him, and one for herself. She lifted the saucer with his cup to hand it to him.

“Thank you,” he rasped, wincing when his fingers brushed against hers. He blew and took a sip, swallowing slowly. “Beverly, this is … dangerous.”

“I know,” she whispered, looking away. “But we’ve put it off for nearly 20 years, I think we can handle 12 hours.”

“I’m not sure I can,” he replied brokenly. “I feel … like I’m losing my mind. Like I’m back on Risa with those damned plants and all I want is…damn it, Beverly, I want you.”

Tears shone in his eyes at his admission. It wasn’t a secret, but the outward admission shook her.

“It’s just the chemicals in your system,” she said unconvincingly, looking away.

“You know that’s not true,” he challenged. 

Nodding, she looked at him, a tear streaking down her cheek. “Then why don’t you take me?” she asked simply, shocking him. Putting down his tea, he looked her in the eye.

“I could never,” he gasped. “Beverly, I won’t … take advantage of you like that.”

“But you’ve thought about it,” she replied, her eyes darkening.

“Yes,” he said, his voice breathless. 

“Jean-Luc, look at me,” she implored. He yelped and nearly jumped from the couch when he felt her place a hand on his trembling knee. 

“Beverly, please!”

“I’m sorry, I…” she trailed off, quickly removing her hand and shaking her head. “I just need you to hear me. What you said before, about my unhappiness with Starfleet, you weren’t wrong.”

Picard nodded, taking several deep breaths to try to calm himself, to listen to her.

“And you were right about my fears,” she continued. “It hurt when I found out you’d been in love with me for all those years, and were hiding it from me, but it hurt even more when you said you no longer felt that way. I didn’t believe you, but you blocked me, and I … I knew you weren’t ready.”

“I’m so sorry, Beverly,” he choked out, holding back tears. 

Beverly felt guilty for saying these things now, when he was in such a fragile state, but she didn’t know what else to do. They had to confront what was between them, and 12 hours may not have seemed like a long time, but to her it felt as if it would take an eternity, and she was unsure of how much worse he would get. She had to set things straight before he began truly descending into deeper depression. In this moment, she wished Deanna had not been down on Risa enjoying her Shore Leave. She should’ve called her friend, but she thought she could handle this on her own. 

“I really messed things up,” she said aloud, shaking her head.

“No, it’s not your fault,” Picard implored, taking her hand in his as he had done so many times before. Feeling her pulse, her warmth, he closed his eyes and breathed deeply.

“Let me finish,” she rasped, gripping his hand gently. “Despite all of that, despite all the pain – I still love you, and I have for a very long time.”

He paused, looking at her as if stricken by her words. She’d admitted it out loud too, now, there was no going back. His heart somehow both soared and broke. When he didn’t reply, she gave him a concerned look.

“I do love you, Jean-Luc,” she repeated, hoping he’d heard her.

“You shouldn’t,” he said brokenly, a tear streaking down his face as he ducked his head in shame.

Standing up, she moved to sit next to him on the couch, keeping his hand in hers. “What would you have me say?” she asked, her voice tight with emotion. “That I blame you for Jack’s death? Because I don’t; it was an accident and a risk every Starfleet officer has to face. Or that I could never forgive you for leaving me and Wesley the way you did? Because, while it hurt me deeply, I forgave you a long time ago. It’s why I requested this assignment in the first place. Wesley needed an environment in which to grow, and a chance to have, if not a father, than a father figure he could look up to. And I wanted our friendship again – and damn it, I wanted more, and it was probably too soon.”

“You were right to leave, Beverly – I all but pushed you off the ship that first year,” he said, his voice filled with regret. “You should have stayed at Starfleet Medical. You would have been happier.”

“But I wasn’t,” she insisted. “I knew I put too much on you, expected something that maybe wasn’t there. But I missed our friendship, and I know you did too.”

“You missed your son,” he countered.

“Yes, of course, Wesley was a big part of why I came back to the Enterprise, but as you pointed out, I didn’t return to Starfleet Medical when he entered the Academy. I stayed on the Enterprise, and you were a big reason why, Jean-Luc. You weren’t the only one keeping secrets.”

“Beverly,” he shuddered, his body suddenly starting to shake. She placed a hand on his forehead – he was burning up again. “Beverly … I … I don’t know what’s happening…”

“Here, stand up,” she said, pulling on his arm and leading him to her bedroom. She seated him on her bed, and saw him breathing harder, trying to hold down his emotions.

“Please, no covers, I’m so hot,” he rasped.

“Just lie down,” she ordered, watching as he lay on his side, curling up. She left the room, returning with a glass of cool water and a cold compress. He was lying on top of her comforter, his robe discarded, his back to her. She carefully sat on the bed.

“Here, drink slowly,” she said, gently massaging his back. Taking the glass, he shakily drank the cool substance, then handed it back to her. She pressed the cold cloth to his forehead gently, swiping at the beads of sweat before moving it away. She then returned to him, stroking his bare back gently.

“Tell me what you’re feeling,” she whispered, wishing she could cover him.

“Alone,” he whimpered, shivering. “So alone.”

She had read about this, about the psychological effects the chemicals could cause. He needed her now.

“Jean-Luc, do you remember when I told you that the men who recovered most easily from this had partners?”

“Yes,” he rasped.

“Well, in almost every way, I consider us partners,” she said in a hoarse voice.

“Almost every way,” he said regretfully. “Beverly, I won’t have you do this just to treat an illness. I won’t take advantage-”

“I’m not suggesting we do,” she countered. “I’ve done my research. I think if I just … if I just hold you…”

Picard sniffled, feeling himself beginning to break. “Beverly…”

“Shhh,” she whispered, curling up to spoon against him, her nightgown rasping against his back. “You let me hold you during your mind meld with Ambassador Sarek,” she reminded him.

“Not like this,” he replied, trembling as her left hand wrapped around him, resting on his chest, over his heart.

“It’s alright,” she whispered. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere, despite your noble declarations. I know your priorities, I know who you are, and I accept you, I love you, and if you’re done flagellating yourself with guilt, when this is over I will happily agree to explore our feelings.”

She felt his chest seize, his breathing cease, and she nearly panicked until she saw him turn to face her. His kind, hazel eyes shone with tears, and when they met hers, she could see a spark of hope. But there was also that same old fear.

“What if I’m not enough for you?” he asked sadly, finally releasing the breath he’d been holding. 

“I think you’ll be more than enough for me,” she grinned, arching an eyebrow teasingly. He groaned, yet couldn’t help but return a small smile at her impish joke. 

“Beverly, be serious. I fear I will be inadequate emotionally. I’ve never been involved this deeply with someone before – I don’t want to hurt you, not again.”

“Then we’ll just have to learn how to better communicate,” she sighed. “We have to do something, we can’t let this linger. We’re in too deep now.” Letting her fingers caress his smooth scalp, she could feel him relax a bit. “This alright?”

“More than alright,” he sighed. “When I’m near you, it gets better. Strange, the effects these pleasure plants have – one wonders why they grow them at all.”

“In small doses, it can be very arousing and bonding for a couple,” Beverly explained, absently rubbing her fingers over his chest.

“Indeed,” he groaned, shifting slightly to try to hide his erection under his thigh. “There is a deep need to feel … connected.”

“Do you, Jean-Luc? Do you feel connected?”

“Not as much as I’d like to be,” he joked with a painful grin. “But, all these emotions – I feel like I might start sobbing at any moment, falling into some pit of despair, almost … lovesick. But having you here, holding me like this, it eases me.” 

They were both silent for several moments before Picard finally spoke. “I don’t want to lose you, ” he said seriously, blushing as she kissed his cheek gently.

“Good, because I don’t want to lose you either,” she admitted, smoothing her right hand over his scalp. “But I’m not sure either of us has a choice in that matter,” she added sadly.

“You’re thinking of Jack,” he said, his voice pained.

“Yes, but also of you,” she added. “You’ve been in my Sick Bay far too many times. I even declared you dead once, a fact you joked about upon your return, but it crushed me at the time. I really thought I’d lost you. I … I felt as if I was on autopilot, just going through the motions of life, but not really living.”

“I’m so sorry,” he rasped. “I wasn’t very considerate of your feelings, but I was still trying to hide my feelings for you then.”

“It was right before Kesyprytt,” she recalled. 

Picard nodded. “You know, you’ve had far too many close calls yourself, doctor,” he reminded her. “Standing on the bridge, watching you defy my orders and fly into a sun to prove a theory … and then we lost your signal. I was so … so angry, but also near distraught. Then there was the sharp relief that coursed through me when I heard your voice over the intercom. I nearly cried – I think Deanna sensed it. She looked my way and I quickly excused myself to my Ready Room. When you returned, I didn’t know whether to shout at you or embrace you and tell you how much you meant to me.”

“You didn’t do either,” she noted.

“No,” he replied, wiping at his wet eyes. “I had to be professional, and I was. I reprimanded you in accordance with Starfleet regulations and then set to the task of working on a defense for the hearing.”

“We barely spoke in those weeks,” Beverly remembered. “No breakfasts, no chit-chat – I was worried I had damaged our friendship beyond repair.”

“I needed to sort out my feelings,” he sighed heavily. “If I said or did the wrong thing, I could lose you and I didn’t want that.”

“What did you do?”

“Went to Ten Forward,” he chuckled. “Guinan was there, talked some sense into me about why you needed to do what you did, even if it was technically against Starfleet regulations.”

Beverly chuckled. “She was basically the one who talked me into following through with my theory,” she admitted. 

“Mmm,” Picard groaned. “Then there was the incident on Rutia IV…”

“People were hurt, I had to help,” she said defensively. “I didn’t plan on getting captured by a terrorist.”

“Nor did I,” he sighed. “And then your accident on Minos.”

“My accident?” she replied, sitting up slightly. “You ran into me, knocked me down that hole.”

“You broke my fall,” he recalled sadly, his voice wavering. “When I saw how badly you were injured, I felt panic rising up inside me, a fear I hadn’t had since … since Jack.”

“You seemed very calm and controlled to me.”

“Huh!” he laughed, shaking his head as he fought back tears. “I was terrified. You were going to die under my watch, just like Jack, in a senseless accident, and I would have tell Wesley he was now an orphan.”

“Jean-Luc…”

She could feel him begin to shake as he turned away from her, a sob catching in his throat.

“Jean-Luc, it’s alright.”

“I felt … so … helpless,” he choked out between gasps. He was crying uncontrollably – a side effect of the chemicals mixed with the intensity of his memories.

“Shhh, I’m here, it’s alright now,” she whispered, running her hand over his shoulder, then up and down his back. She kissed his forehead gently, holding him tightly to her as he suddenly fell into his own abyss.

Beverly had read about the bouts of despair a patient in his condition might suffer through, but she was unprepared for how his torment would tear at her heart. Trying to think of a way to sooth him, she began to hum, then sing as she remembered the words to a popular French lullaby.

“Au clair de la lune  
Mon ami Pierrot  
Prete-moi ta plume  
Pour écrire un mot.”

She could hear Picard’s sobbing slow, his body calming, so she continued.

“Ma chandelle est morte  
Je n'ai plus de feu  
Ouvre-moi ta porte  
Pour l'amour de Dieu.”

Surprising her, Picard began to join in on the second verse, and she found she much enjoyed his baritone, as his crying settled down. 

“How do you know that song?” he asked, his voice wavering.

“My mother used to sing it to me,” Beverly recalled. 

“I didn’t know your family had roots in France,” he whispered, intrigued as he turned on his back to face her. She could see red-rimmed eyes, his face damp. Gently, she wiped at his cheeks and smiled.

“Well I’m not sure I do, but my mother thought it important to expose me to many languages when I was small. And she loved this one in particular, as it mentioned moonlight. You know, I was born on the moon, lived there for three years until my father was posted on Arvada III.”

“You still have memories of her, your mother?” he asked softly, brushing a strand of hair away from her brow.

“Oh yes,” she smiled. “She was warm, gentle. But always encouraged my curiosity, much to my father’s chagrin. I remember him always trying to protect me when I ventured to far, or took a risk at climbing too high.”

“Your parents … they died during the incident on Arvada III?” he asked, wondering why he’d never inquired before. In this moment, all he wanted to do was learn more about her, how she became the wonderful woman he fell in love with.

“No … they were attacked on a research vessel,” she whispered, frowning. “Best not to speak of that now, Jean-Luc. We don’t need both of us crying now, do we?”

“I’m sorry,” he rasped, shifting onto his side to face her. She gasped as she felt his straining hardness make contact with her stomach over her nightgown.

Groaning, he shifted back, looking at her apologetically.

“Not the most appropriate response, eh?” he joked, but she could see his pained expression as he shifted his left thigh to hide his erection – or at least most of it.

“You can’t help it,” she whispered in understanding. 

“Beverly,” he rasped, arousal returning to his eyes.

“Shhh, I know. It will pass.”

“I know it may not be right, but it is taking every ounce of strength not to…be with you right now. I meant it when I said I do not want to take advantage of you, but we both freely admitted what we want – what I believe we both need. Perhaps there’s some philosophical persuasion that would allow it?”  
His eyes glimmered with hope and need. She hated to disappoint him.

“Not until you’re out of this compromising state,” she insisted, frowning as she trembled against his torso, wanting him almost much. 

“This is going to be torture,” he groaned, turning to lie with his back to her again.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, holding him tightly against her. She felt him shake and tremble, shifting uncomfortably until he began to lightly thrust against the bed. She knew what was happening, but didn’t want to call attention to it for fear of embarrassing him further.

“Uhhh,” he groaned, a soft sob escaping his lips as he let the head of his aching member rasp against her soft comforter. The sensation – along with the knowledge that he was being held by Beverly in her bed - set him on edge, until he was nearly begging for release. Beverly could feel his mechanical heart thumping faster and faster, his hips moving in a more rapid rhythm, his bare bottom lightly bumping her middle, arousing her further. 

“Ohhh,” she cried, unable to stifle her moan, shifting away from him slightly.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped apologetically, trying to still himself. “How much longer?”

“Computer, time?” 

“The time is 0400 hours.”

They both groaned. “Eleven hours to go,” she said with a sigh, her sex tingling as she heard him whimper.

“I’m not going to make it,” he cried. 

“You will,” she reassured him.

“Are you sure there’s no way to … find release?” he asked, his ears turning red with embarrassment as his need continued to grow.

“From everything I’ve read, I don’t believe so, but if you want to try…” her voice trailed off as she swallowed hard.

“I have,” he sighed, “I am …”

Beverly regretted looking over his chest at that moment, as she caught a glimpse of his hand now moving up and down his erection. She was both highly aroused and worried by the condition of his manhood, its veins pronounced along the shaft and the head engorged and purple, his foreskin pulled back to expose the sensitive tip. 

“Sorry,” he muttered, shuddering in pleasure and shame. “You must think me a beast.”

“No,” she reassured him. “It’s not your fault. And if you were a beast, you would simply take what you desire instead of suffering through it this way.”

Closing his eyes, he removed his hand, breathing out heavily. “It’s no use,” he groaned, clutching at the bed sheets in an effort not to embarrass himself further.

“Jean-Luc, can I let you in on a secret?” she whispered, her fingers tangling in his chest hair.

“Of course,” he replied in a tight voice.

“It turns me on,” she rasped quickly, hiding her head in the nook of his shoulder.

“Excuse me?” he asked, clearing his throat and arching an eyebrow. She smiled shyly against his shoulder.

“Watching you … you know … I just, I thought it might make you feel more comfortable to know that … it doesn’t bother me.”

“I wouldn’t say more comfortable, Bev,” he sighed. She grinned at the use of the nickname, one he rarely said anymore. “But at least I know you’re not repelled by my current state. I suppose that’s a comfort.”

Taking long deep breaths in and out, Picard tried to calm himself, but found he was only becoming more distracted not only by his body, but his thoughts, as well as the warmth of his almost lover’s body pressing against him. Even worse, he could scent her arousal.

“Beverly,” he began, his brow furrowed. “Have you ever … thought of me, when you…when you…took your pleasure.”

She giggled, smiling down at him. “Yes,” she said quickly, feeling her face flush hot.

“I shouldn’t have asked,” he groaned, shifting again as he let out a laugh of his own.

“Hmm, maybe I should find another way to distract you?” she said thoughtfully, flashing him an evil grin as she curled her fingers against him. 

“Beverly!” he gasped, chuckling as she wiggled her fingers up and down his side, tickling him lightly.

“I do love your smile,” she said, moving her fingers to tease his stomach, feeling the muscles ripple underneath her adept ministrations.

“Please, I’m…I’m quite … ticklish there,” he warned, squeezing his eyes shut and grinning as her delicate touch caused him to laugh and squirm.

“I can tell,” she replied. “Is this helping to distract you.”

Wriggling her fingers, she found a spot on his outer hip that made him squeal and jerk in her arms.

“Can I … tell you … a secret, Beverly?” he gasped, quivering under her touch.

“Of course.”

“It turns me on,” he swallowed, looking back to see her face. She stopped, gently resting a hand on his hip.

“Oh,” she smiled. “Good to know…for later.”

“Later,” he groaned, burying his head in the pillow as he fisted the bed sheets. “Sometimes I do wonder if you enjoy tormenting me.”

“Maybe a little,” she admitted. “But only because you seem to enjoy it.”

“Uhhh,” he moaned into the pillow. “I need to cum!”

“I know,” she whispered. “If it makes you feel better, so do I.”

“Not helpful!” he grumbled, his voice muffled by the pillow. He was now using it to muffle his groans.

“Sorry,” she sighed, resting her head on his shoulder. She was almost as drenched in sweat as he was, her nightgown clinging to her slick flesh.

Picard’s groans turned to sobs as he again grasped his bulging cock, pre-cum slicking down the shaft as he moved his hand over the tip, pulling back his foreskin further. He made swift movements, teasing his frenulum roughly, sweat beading on his brow as he arched into his hand, his heart beating wildly. This technique always made him cum, but not now.

Beverly tried to avert her eyes, but couldn’t resist the urge to see how he pleasured himself. All research for later, she thought, trying to excuse herself as she watched his desperation. He was panting now, eyes squeezed shut, his face in agony. Over and over he quickly jerked the tip, shuddering at what she imagined must be an incredible sensation. After five minutes, she brought her hand to his shoulder.

“Jean-Luc, enough,” she whispered.

“Almost there,” he whimpered, still stroking furiously.

“I know, but you’ll just end up hurting yourself,” she replied softly.

Letting out a wail of frustration, he again asked the computer for the time. Ten hours to go.

“Beverly,” he moaned. “Let me pleasure you.”

“I don’t think that’s wise,” she whispered, still holding him close to her.

“I can’t get this damn thing to go down, it might as well be put to good use,” he posed in low voice, struggling for control.

“As tempting as it is, I don’t think either one of us could handle you pummeling me for the next 10 hours,” she half-joked, trembling at the thought.

“Not exactly how I’d imagined our first time together,” he conceded with a sigh. “What else did you research say?”

“Well, in cases with extreme exposure, such as yours, it is suggested that a sedative could be given, though to be honest it won’t have much of an effect.”

“This sounds horribly desperate, but I don’t think I can bear breaking contact with you,” he whimpered, wiping the sweat from his forehead. Beverly reached down to entangle her fingers in his, interlocking them.

“You need to find rest,” she whispered in his ear. “Let me try.”

“Alright,” he rasped, gasping at the loss of her touch as she moved away from the bed and grabbed her med kit. Pulling out a hypospray, she lay down beside him again and administered the sedative into his neck, her other hand gently resting over his pulse.

“You have a way about touching your patients,” Picard sighed, feeling a slightly more relaxed from the medication.

“Oh? Always appropriately, I hope.”

“I was not insinuating otherwise,” he replied with a small smile. “But I have noticed you take great care to make sure your patient is comfortable and at ease. Placing a hand on their shoulder, their arm, their pulse … it takes more than mere book knowledge to be a good doctor, Beverly, and you’re the best I’ve ever known.”

“You’re a sweet talker,” she said, kissing his cheek gently. “Is this how you got all those women to fall all over you in your academy days?”

“Beverly, please,” he implored. “I’d much rather not think on my undisciplined former self right now. That Jean-Luc Picard was brash, unthinking, and had far too little care for the partners he accepted into his bed.”

“You speak as if you were a different person.”

“I was,” he sighed. “I learned a great lesson in those years – a lesson about the importance of caring for another’s heart. It cost quite a lot to learn that lesson.”

“You’re referring to the incident that led to your artificial heart?” she asked, her hand gently rubbing his chest where the scar would have been.

“No,” he replied gruffly. “It was after. I had gone to bed with a Orion woman, we’d carried on for several nights. I … I didn’t realize at the time that she had actually grown very attached to me. Not until she found me in the arms of another woman the following week. She didn’t say a word, just walked out of the room. I meant to go after her, but the woman I was with was very persuasive in convincing me to finish what we had started.”

“The Orions have a long history of female slavery and sexual exploitation,” Beverly noted. 

“Yes, a fact I didn’t take into consideration. She was quite beautiful, but I had no idea she was looking for more than just a fling.”

“What happened?” Beverly asked, trepidation in her voice.

“Well, the next day I received a message from her, a terrible message that I’ve kept to this day to remind me of how fragile the heart can be.”

“Jean-Luc…”

“She ended her life,” he said quietly, the agony apparent in his voice. 

“She blamed you?” Beverly asked, astonished. “I mean, I feel very sorry for her, but that’s not quite fair.”

“It wasn’t just me,” Picard explained in a sad voice. “She’d been betrayed many times, by many lovers. But she’d also been … tortured at some point in her young life. She was fighting through those feelings when we were … together. I … I allowed her to … to be in control, during sex. At first I thought it was just a game, but reading her words, I realized she was trying to, in a way, exorcise some of the demons buried within her. I made her feel safe, loved. Then I just left her, found another to keep my bed warm. She even wrote that it wasn’t my fault, that I couldn’t have known, but it broke her spirit none-the-less. She felt she would never find anyone who understands her, who could help her heal. Even the most noble man she’d ever met didn’t live up to her expectations. I failed to see her, Beverly.”

“I’m so sorry,” Beverly sighed remorsefully. “Still, Jean-Luc, what she wrote was true - it wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known.”

“If I’d actually listened to her, talked to her, gotten to know her, perhaps I would have known, would have been more up front, more careful. From that moment on, I swore I would never take intimate relationships so lightly again.”

Beverly swallowed hard, pulling him close. They were hugging front to front, the need to comfort him outweighing the awkwardness of feeling his hardness against her stomach. She noticed his arousal had waned a bit as he told the story.

“You didn’t know, Jean-Luc,” she said firmly, rubbing the back of his head and running a hand down his back. She could feel him beginning to break again.

“Perhaps there was no way to save her, perhaps it was all just too much for her to bear,” he said. “But still … to have played a part in that decision – it haunts me, Beverly. It haunts me in ways I could never express. I’ve never told anyone about this – no one. Not even Deanna.”

“We can’t save everyone,” Beverly sighed, caressing his cheek. “Take it from a doctor who knows what it’s like to lose her patients.”

“You’ve saved countless lives,” he countered, brushing a strand of hair from her damp forehead.

“A small comfort,” she replied. “I still have nightmares about that day on Vagra II,” she whispered, tears springing to her eyes.

“You couldn’t have done anything more,” Picard urged, gently caressing her shoulder.

“Tasha died on my watch, Jean-Luc,” she sniffled, holding back tears.

“She died on mine too,” he reminded her. “I’m responsible for the lives of this crew. And to lose yet another office in such a senseless manner … I understand your ache, I share it, Beverly.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, kissing his cheek. “I should comforting you, not dredging all this up.”

“Perhaps there’s a need to. Deanna never fails to remind me of the need to speak our deepest fears and pains aloud – it steals their over us.”

They lay silently for several minutes, holding each other tenderly until they both felt his erection begin to stir again.

“Beverly … I’m sorry,” he rasped, shifting again.

“Stop apologizing,” she warned, kissing the tip of his nose. She moved away for a moment and he whimpered, but she silenced him, placing a finger to his lips. “I thought we could bear this together by simply lying here and holding you, but it’s not working, and I refuse to watch you suffer any more than you have to.”

“Don’t leave me,” he begged almost pitifully.

“I’m not,” she reassured him, suddenly standing up to remove her sweat-drenched nightgown. She wore no bra, only a pair of tight, silk panties protecting her most private area from his gaze.

“What are you doing?” he gasped, near panic as his shaft became impossibly harder at the site of her pert, rounded breasts, firm stomach and sleek legs.

“I didn’t want this to be our first time, I didn’t want you to feel I was taking advantage of you or the situation. But this is the prescription every medical log suggests.”

“Beverly…” he choked out, near tears as he slide into his arms again, embracing him.

“There are various treatments and suggestions, Jean-Luc, and I’ve tried every one,” she replied in a hoarse voice. “You need more intimate contact.”

His entire body trembled under her touch as she gently stroked up and down his chest. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he rasped.

“Jean-Luc, you are indeed lovesick, and honestly so I am, though in a different way. I have been for a long time. All I want is to be with you … to know what it’s like to share the passion that you have burning within you, to share my passion with you. It will help you through this.”

“Bev,” he said, his voice tight and low. “I don’t know… my head … my heart … it’s all so overwhelming…”

“I won’t do anything without your consent,” she replied firmly. “But I know you still have the power to give that consent. I know because you’re holding back even now.”

“You said you didn’t want our first time to be me pummeling you for 10 hours,” he reminded her, giving a wary look.

“You’re not so far gone,” she countered. “Give me some credit. I think we can do this safely…”

“Safely?” he replied, mouth gaping as he shifted away from her, kneeling on the bed. “Beverly, I won’t risk hurting you.” 

“I’m not so fragile,” she countered strongly, kneeling so that they were facing each other as she placed her arms around his strong shoulders.

Picard looked deeply into her eyes, then felt a wave of sorrow and need sweep over him at once. It caught him off guard, his breath catching in his throat as he gasped and let out a strangled sob.

“You need me,” she whispered, “And I’m here. If you want, Jean-Luc. If not, we can just stay like this.”

She pressed her bare chest to his, holding him tightly, urging him back to a seated position. He complied as she dragged his legs out in front of him, moving him back to the headboard. Then she positioned herself to the side of him, her strong dancer’s legs entangling in his, the wet silk of her panties brushing against his thigh as she rested her head against his heart. Her hands still wrapped around his torso, softly stroking, soothing, as her lips caressed the pounding pulse on his neck.

“Oh, Bev,” he shuddered, unable to control the tears that began to fall...

TO BE CONTINUED...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The French Lullaby translates to "By the light of the Moon" - click the link below for a full translation and more:  
> https://www.liveabout.com/au-clair-de-la-lune-lyrics-3552858
> 
> I think Beverly has a lovely voice and I enjoyed the image of her singing as she comforted him. (I was inspired by her singing in "Cause & Effect")
> 
> Also, plenty of throwbacks in this episode - did you catch all the references?  
> "Gambit Parts 1 & 2" (S7) - Beverly is forced to declare Picard dead when they think he was vaporized in a bar fight. When he returns, the shock on her face is apparent, but Riker is forced stun her so their cover would not be blown. We never see any reaction or resolution to what must have been a truly traumatic experience for her. There is a deleted scene with her and Riker, where she laments declaring him dead - it's very bittersweet. But again, no resolution. And then "Attached" is only a few episodes later. I think this definitely played into her hesitation - she'd already experienced the finality of his loss, and what she had to go through. Could she bear to go through that again, this time as not just a friend but a lover? It's a pivotal moment for them, even if the show never dealt with it or its consequences.
> 
> "Suspicions" (S6) - Beverly flies a shuttlecraft into the sun to test a new shielding technology
> 
> "The High Ground" (S3) - Beverly is captured by Terrorists - when Picard is also captured she confesses "There are some things I need to tell you..." but then they are interrupted by a rescue.
> 
> "The Arsenal of Freedom" (S1) - Beverly and Picard fall into a deep hole and Beverly is seriously injured. I wasn't impressed with Picard's reactions here, but hey, it was Season 1 and he was trying to hide his feelings for her.
> 
> "Skin of Evil" (S1) - I do believe Tasha Yar's death haunts Beverly and may have even played into her reasons for leaving the Enterprise.
> 
> The Orion Woman - I thought it was important to show how Picard changed from a young cad who seemed to sleep around with everyone to a gentleman who said he doesn't take love affairs lightly. While his near-death experience may have tamed him some, I thought a bit more explanation was needed. It was definitely tragic, but I could also see how it would affect and change Picard.


	5. Testing a Theory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Picard and Beverly's intimacy grows, as Picard tests one of Beverly's theories. Some hot foreplay ensues, along with some frank conversations about replicants and past encounters.

"Tell me what you’re feeling,” she whispered, smoothing a hand over his heart.

“Such an odd sensation,” he shuddered, his voice thick with emotion. “All these feelings, bubbling up to the surface – it’s too much…”

“You’ll be alright, just a little longer, hold on,” she urged, somehow drawing him closer. “Is that better, Jean-Luc? Is this helping you?”

“Oh yes,” he gasped, kissing her forehead, his strong arms embracing her. “You are … perfect…”

She chuckled out loud at his comment. “Far from it,” she sighed. “Though I should write down this statement for posterity, the next time you question my judgment,” she joked.

“You would,” he laughed, his broad smile causing her heart to leap. He kissed her nose, then her cheek, then the soft spot just under her ear. “I love you, Beverly,” he whispered softly, his lips never breaking contact with her slick skin. 

“Oh god,” she cried, her hips bucking against him as she shuddered against his thigh. He felt her wetness grow and her sex tremble, even through the silk panties. He watched her face, which had flushed red, her eyes dilated with pleasure. Looking lower, he noticed her chest had also tinged to a shade of dark pink. She took his breath away.

“Beverly … did you just…” he asked in wonder, unable to complete the sentence.

He could read her embarrassment as she simply nodded, licking her lips and snuggling into his chest, letting out several deep breaths across his sensitive nipples. Her hand rested on the muscled area just above his stomach, though she ached to bring it lower. 

Picard swallowed hard, sweat running down his face as he ached at the thought of what had just occurred. Beverly had orgasmed, simply from his light touch and his gentle words of love. His ego did not get too inflated, however, as he noted that it probably had not been incredibly satisfying.

“Beverly,” he whispered, his lips brushing against her ear. “Let me pleasure you.”

He moved his hand across her taut stomach, down to the silk that covered her most intimate area, waiting for her permission.

“Together,” she insisted. “May I touch you?”

“Alright,” he finally relented, sighing deeply, partially afraid of what her touch would do to him. As he felt her hand brush against his engorged member for the first time, he actually found himself glad that his condition prevented him from reaching orgasm – he knew he would have embarrassed himself right there, cumming after only the lightest tickle of her fingertips over his sensitive tip.

“Oh god,” he moaned, bucking into her hand. 

“Is this okay?” she asked seriously, looking into his eyes as her skilled hand stroked him lightly.

“Oh yes,” he gasped. “It’s almost too much.”

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” she said, her other hand caressing his face. She felt his left hand move lower, slipping over her panties, dragging one finger over her outer lips, using the silk to tease her.

“Better?” he whispered, leaning his lips close to hers.

She nodded, biting her lip as her hips pressed into his hand, seeking more contact.

“Computer, what is the time!” Beverly cried out, her voice desperate. They both groaned at the response. “Ten hours to go,” she whimpered, swallowing hard.

Shaking his head, he focused on her pleasure, finding that doing so eased his emotional turmoil, even as it ignited his fevered arousal. Slowly, he teased two of his fingers up the silk, circling the top of her mons, searching …

“Oh, yes!” she cried out, trembling under his skilled touch.

“Right there … oui…” he whispered, her response indicating that he had found the tender nub that he knew would drive her over the edge. Her fingers loosened on his cock as she became lost in pleasure.

“Jean-Luc … so close …”

“Tell me what you need,” he rasped, feeling the nub hardening beneath the silk.

“I need you to … tell me again…Jean-Luc…”

“I love you, Beverly,” he moaned again, this time seizing her lips and drawing her into a tender kiss as his fingers bore down, giving her the pressure she needed. She sighed into his mouth, her tongue slicking over his as she rode out a much more satisfying release. Yet it went beyond sex … the love she felt for this man – her captain, her best friend, and now her lover … she was overwhelmed by it. As she felt him slip her panties down over her hips, touching her bare sex for the first time, she gasped, burying her head into his chest as sobs wracked her body.

“Beverly,” he cried out in concern, gently removing his hand and pulling her face up to his. “What have I done? Are you alright? Beverly…”

Through her tears, she shook her had placed her hand over his, guiding it back down to her exposed sex, which was drenched with her arousal and release.

“I … oh, Jean-Luc…”

“Please tell me,” he implored, unwilling to continue until she met his gaze.

“I’m fine…more than fine,” she said, smiling through her tears. “It’s happened before,” she admitted, somewhat embarrassed. “I just … when I’m with someone in this way, someone I care deeply for, I … I cry during sex, Jean-Luc. I promise if something is wrong, I will say so, but these tears, they’re not a bad thing, far from it.”

Brushing a thumb over her tear-streaked cheeks, he nodded. “You’re so beautiful,” he sighed. “I suppose I will get used to your … happy tears.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to distress you.”

“Never apologize for being yourself,” he replied strongly. “I love that you can let go with me. I’m honored, actually. To be able to make you feel this way … I’ve wanted to bring you this kind of pleasure for so long. You don’t know … nights of agony dreaming of you like this. You are a remarkable woman, and I love you. I love you, Beverly and now that I’ve said it I don’t think I care to stop.”

She wondered how much of his proclamations were dragged from him because of the chemicals in his system, but looking in his eyes, she knew he meant every word. Picard noticed her questioning gaze, which gave him pause.

“Beverly, I may not be an overtly emotional man on the surface, but I promise you, if you’ll let me, I can show you how passionate I am underneath.”

“I believe you,” she smiled, kissing his lips gently, then seeking entrance, her tongue dancing with his as his fingers began to move against the bare, slick flesh of her sex.

“Mmm,” he moaned, his fingers scorched as he delved lightly between her plump outer lips, dragging his middle finger lightly through the seam. Beverly set back to exploring him as she began to relax into his touch. Remembering how he had pleasured himself earlier, she began to ease her hand over his shaft, her thumb slicking over his slit, causing him to squirm and groan into her kiss.

“Too sensitive?” she asked, dragging her fingers back down to the base.

He breathed out, his face flushed and desperate. “It felt like … I almost came,” he sighed, trying to enjoy the pleasure despite his sexual frustration.

“What about here?” she asked, her fingers grazing his heavy sack, teasing lightly.

“Ahhh,” he shuddered, bucking and biting his lip. “You’re a wicked woman,” he swallowed, his tongue seeking hers again as he let her have her way with him. She could feel how hot and taught the flesh was, and for a second worried about the damage this prolonged erection might do to him. She could tell he was beginning to think the same thing as worry furrowed on his brow. His eyes were drawn to his aching member. She parted from his lips to reassure him.

“You’ll be fine, Jean-Luc – nothing I can’t fix,” she smiled as he arched an eyebrow and swallowed hard.

“I trust you,” he affirmed, kissing her neck and moving his hand more insistently against her wet flesh. “You’re so soft …” he muttered in awe, his lips trailing down her collarbone to her chest.

“Please, Jean-Luc,” she gasped as he softly slipped his tongue along the underside of her breast.

“Some men go right for the nipple,” he murmured. “I prefer to enjoy the entire breast – so many nerves men never explore, such a pity…”

He licked around her areola, flickering lightly over the top of breast, trailing quick, soft kisses over it.

“Jean-Luc,” she whimpered.

“Sensitive?” he asked with a smirk, his tongue suddenly lashing at her now hardened nipple.

“FUCK!” she screamed, her sex wetting his fingers. He arched an eyebrow at her.

“Such profanity,” he teased, kissing her hardened nipple gently, then laving it with his tongue.

“Is that a problem?” she gritted out, her gaze challenging him. He shuddered at the sight, realizing he was “poking the bear” a bit too hard.

“Not at all,” he reassured her. “I quite like it, actually. Perhaps I can hear more …”

Shifting, he moved his body over hers, causing her to again lose her grip on his shaft as it slipped from her fingers. She grasped his shoulder as he leaned over her, bending his head to suckle at her breast. His other hand played with her sex, his index finger rimming her opening, teasing but never quite slipping inside.

“Goddamnit, Jean-Luc!” she cried, wriggling her hips as he brought her to the pinnacle of release, then eased back. “You’ll pay,” she warned.

“I already am, believe me,” he mumbled as he suckled on her other breast, flicking his tongue over the hardened nub over and over. She gently stroked the short hairs at the back of his head and allowed him to get lost in pleasuring her. She felt the sudden wave of emotion sweep through him as a sob escaped his lips. 

“Are you alright,” she whispered, bringing his face up to her gaze. Tears shone in his eyes.

“It’s happening again,” he sighed sadly. “The abyss. I feel like I’m falling … Beverly …”

“What can I do?”

“Just stay here,” he begged, “stay here and let me love you, Beverly.”

Nodding she swallowed as she watched his head bend again. It was a light suckle this time, as if he were seeking to draw solace from her body. And he was. She could feel him trembling, yet steadying himself as she stroked his back, humming and whispering words of love and reassurance. His tears ran down her chest but he was unwilling to let go. His hand had stilled on her sex, creating a pressure that built her need further.

“I’m alright,” he sighed, recovering a bit more quickly from this bought of emotion. “Thank you,” he added, reaching up to kiss her gently. Beverly smiled, bringing his head down to rest on her chest, letting them both catch their breath. 

“Just try to relax,” she urged, returning his kiss. She gasped as she felt him shift, gently easing his mouth down her neck, over her left breast then across her ribs down to her quivering, flat stomach.

“Jean-Luc,” she sighed, smoothing her hand over his scalp. 

“I was a fool to have let you go – twice a fool actually,” he groaned, his lips brushing softly all over her torso, driving her mad.

“If I had known how you felt, I would never have left,” she admitted, her face flushing with pleasure.

“It was a relief to have you back,” Picard sighed, grasping her hands to entangle her fingers in his. “I never told you how much I missed you.”

“Your copy did,” she smiled, her comment making him groan at the memory.

“Those aliens had the audacity to just imprison whatever creature fascinated them – appalling!” he grumbled. Beverly took his face in her hands, dragging him back up to her.

“Well, I heard you taught them a lesson,” she smiled, snuggling into his chest as she tried to dissipate his anger at the memory. He looked down at her, his heart moved as she drew closer.

“Indeed,” he replied, feeling the anger leave him for the moment. “Beverly, did you leave anything out of your report, about what transpired between you and my replicant?”

Beverly sighed. “You’re questioning my thoroughness?” she teased.

“It was very vague,” he replied, trepidation in his voice.

“Alright,” she said, shifting to sit up. “I think they were using your thoughts and feelings to find out how a captain might engage in a … romantic relationship with a crewmember.”

“I gathered that by your mention of dinner in my quarters,” he said. “I just wonder how much of my true feelings they revealed to you. It always left me a bit … uneasy, not knowing.”

“Well…I knew something was off the minute you – or your copy – asked me to dance,” she began.

“Dance?” he repeated in surprise. “And just what else did you do?”

Beverly hesitated, then decided to tell him the truth. “We kissed,” she said quickly, giving him a regretful look.

“What?!” he cried out. 

“It was a quick kiss, Jean-Luc, and nothing else happened. Actually, you – or rather the replicant – abruptly ended the evening and escorted me out of your quarters.”

Picard breathed a sigh of relief, but still eyed her carefully. “That’s all, then?”

“That’s it,” she shrugged.

“And if he hadn’t ended the evening – would it have gone further?”

Closing her eyes, Beverly gave an exasperated groan. “I don’t know, Jean-Luc! You were acting very strangely. You were actively trying to seduce me. And I admit it was working, but I don’t think I would have gone much further. Something didn’t feel right. Somehow, I could tell it wasn’t truly you.”

“I’m sorry,” Picard sighed, shaking his head. “I know that must have been very … confusing for you.”

“You said you missed our friendship,” she recalled with a wistful smile. “Knowing that you did meant a lot to me, so in some ways, I’m glad it happened.”

“Glad that I was imprisoned against my will?” he asked, slightly taken aback.

“Apparently that’s what it took to get you to express even a hint of your feelings for me,” she countered, giving him a warning look that told him to back off. 

“I understand,” he swallowed. “I just … I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For missing our first kiss,” he sighed.

“Well,” she began, choosing her words carefully, “you have plenty of time to make up for that.”

Looking at her sheepishly, he caressed her cheek. “Plan on it,” he growled, capturing her mouth with a deep kiss. He knew she had cooled considerably during their conversation and was intent on bringing her back to a heightened state.

“Jean-Luc, you don’t have to keep tormenting yourself,” she sighed as his right hand captured her breast.

“You offered,” he smiled, gently kissing a tender spot between her neck and collarbone. 

“Well, sexual intimacy can help your condition,” she swallowed.

“Just what the doctor ordered,” he rumbled, licking his way down her chest, his tongue flickering into her belly button, making her giggle.

“Jean-Luc!” she cried, realizing what he was about to do.

“Do you object to this kind of loving?” he asked seriously, pausing just above her mound.

Beverly let out a shaky breath. “No, it’s just … it’s been a long time,” she admitted, licking her parched lips, her throat dry with sudden arousal.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked, smoothing his hand over her quivering stomach. He simply loved the feel of her under his fingertips and would settle for anything she would permit.

“I’m not sure,” she gasped, looking up to the ceiling in embarrassment. 

“Surely you’ve done this before?” he asked, placing gentle kisses along her taut belly. She was lean and fit, and he delighted in making her squirm as he teased her sensitive torso.

“Yes, I have,” she admitted, chuckling lightly at the sensation of his lips brushing across her more ticklish areas. 

“But you’d rather not?” he asked, drawing a gasp from her as he licked her inner thigh.

“I’m … I’m not sure…” she whimpered.

“Then I just need to convince you,” he asserted, his tongue slipping back over her stomach.

“More like seduce me,” she replied in an unsteady voice, her pussy throbbing at the sight of his rather long tongue tracing her abdomen.

“Tell me … why are you hesitant?” he asked, his eyes filled with genuine concern.

“Well, it’s … it’s very intimate and … and I suppose I’m just worried you won’t…I mean, that you might not…”

“Like the way you taste?” he finished her sentence, propping himself up on his elbow as he chuckled heartily.

“It’s not funny,” she frowned, looking away. 

“I’m sorry,” he apologized immediately, sliding back up her body to hold her close. “I never want you to feel uncomfortable, and I wasn’t laughing at you. I was laughing at the thought that I wouldn’t enjoy sampling your unique flavor.”

“Jean-Luc,” she blushed, burying her head into his shoulder.

“It’s alright,” he smiled, kissing the top of her head. “But let me assure you, I am most certain I will enjoy you thoroughly should you change your mind.”

“How can you be so sure?” she asked, looking up at him.

“Because there is not one thing that I find unappealing about you,” he rasped, bringing his lips to hers. He let his tongue play with her lips, gently showing her how he longed to kiss her lower. Finally, her lips parted, their tongues tangling through gasps and moans.

“I love you,” she whispered between open-mouthed kisses. 

“Tell me truly, why did the thought of me kissing you down there frighten you?”

Beverly sighed, placing her hand on his heart as she parted from his lips, considering her response.

“I had an unpleasant experience once,” she admitted. 

“Tell me,” he whispered, nuzzling her neck as he watched her carefully.

“It was after Jack died, while I was interning with Dr. Quaice,” she began slowly. “Wesley was visiting a friend for a sleepover, and I had just met this fellow intern – he was a few years older. It had been over a year since I’d been with a man, and one thing led to another. We ended up heading back to my quarters.”

“Did he hurt you?” Picard asked, concern and fury burning in his eyes.

“No,” she rasped, shaking her head. “Just the opposite – he was quite good, actually,” she sighed, noticing the look of jealousy cross over his face. “The problem was, he had really … worked me up - kept teasing me, then easing me back down, you know? Jack used to do that all the time because he knew …”

Beverly trailed off, blushing.

“It’s alright,” Picard said gently, pushing aside his pride, anxious to get to the heart of the issue. “Please, continue.”

“Well,” she swallowed, “he was kissing me intimately, on my sex, and suddenly I, um…I squirted. Jack had always enjoyed that, but unfortunately my partner at the time didn’t feel the same way.”

Picard’s eyes widened. “Oh, Bev,” he whispered, kissing her softly. “I promise you, I would not mind that all. Never be ashamed of how your body responds to lovemaking.”

Giving him a shy smile, she nodded, returning the kiss. “Alright then,” she laughed nervously. 

“It’s alright then?” he asked eagerly, desperate to demonstrate his own skills.

She chuckled at his enthusiasm, nodding her head in assent. 

“Yes!” he half-shouted, growling as e kissed her passionately. He smoothed his hand lower, parting her thighs. 

“Jean-Luc!” she laughed, as he blew lightly over her ear, whispering.

“He was a damn fool, and I promise you, that awful night will never cross your mind again,” he rasped, nipping her ear. “To think a man would balk at something so natural,” he grumbled, shaking his head as he looked at her.

“Well, everyone is different,” Beverly shrugged, still looking a bit peevish. “I just wouldn’t want to do anything to make you … not want me.”

“Impossible,” he growled, burrowing his head into her neck, laving the area where her pulse was beating erratically. “Your responsiveness delights me … only makes me want you more.”

She felt his hardness throbbing against her thigh as his breath quickened. “Should I tell you how I plan to seduce you?” he whispered seductively.

Arching an eyebrow, she shifted intentionally, letting his cock slip between her legs. 

“Uhhh,” he moaned right into her ear, fighting to still his hips. “You are a wicked woman,” he breathed, trembling at the feel of his sensitive flesh over her drenched outer lips.

“Mmmm, so, Captain, you were about to tell me your plans for my seduction?”

“Ah yes,” he groaned, regret flashing over his face as he forced himself to ease his cock away from her heat so he could focus. “Have you ever heard of the French kiss?”

“C’mon, Jean-Luc,” she grinned, “I’m not a virgin.”

“Not here,” he whispered, giving her an open mouthed kiss on her lips, letting their tongues play. “But here,” he rasped, sliding a finger through her wetness, reveling in her gasp of pleasure.

“I, um…I can’t say that I have,” she replied breathlessly as he stared hotly into her eyes.

“It’s very intimate,” he said in low, quiet voice that made her tremble. “The woman’s partner must have incredible patience and precision.”

“Must he?” she gasped, feeling his index finger teasing along her outer lips, circling around her sex slowly.

“Mmmm,” he replied, his deep voice reverberating over her. He felt a gush of wetness anoint his fingers and decided to moan again, in a lower register. “You enjoy that, don’t you,” he teased.

“Sometimes I think I could cum just from the sound of your voice,” she admitted, throwing caution to the wind. If he was going to be so forward, so was she. 

“Should we find out?” he teased, his heart pounding as he met her challenge. She glanced at the chronometer.

“Why not? We have … oh…another eight and a half hours,” she replied, a devious look in her eyes.

“Mmmm,” he groaned, pressing his chest against hers, letting her feel the rumbling.

“Yes!” she cried.

“You like that?” he breathed.

“I need you close,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around him until they were pressed together tightly. “Again.”

“Mmmmm,” he growled against her ear, the vibrations in his chest rippling through her. His index finger continued to circle her throbbing pussy, never quite touching where she needed. Her hips began to arch, seeking more contact.

“Jean-Luc,” she moaned, “touch me, please.”

“Ah, but we’re testing your theory,” he replied wickedly. “Let’s see if you indeed can cum from just the sound of my voice.”

“Oh…what have I done,” she lamented, her eyes rolling back as he growled against her again.

“What should I say?” he wondered, feeling the edges of her pussy quiver as he gave only the lightest brush of his finger.

“Anything, god, please,” she begged, her hips twisting upward. 

“None of that,” he admonished, pressing his torso on her, his left hand holding her hip down steadily. “No friction – just my voice, remember? Now … where were we…perhaps you would like to hear some Shakespeare?” he teased.

“I don’t care if you start reciting Shakespeare or Starfleet regulations – just do something!” she demanded, her eyes holding a promise of payback. He shuddered at her gaze, then took a deep breath.

“Let me not to the marriage of true minds   
Admit impediments. Love is not love   
Which alters when it alteration finds,   
Or bends with the remover to remove.”

Beverly nodded, nuzzling his neck and closing her eyes as she listened to his timber and tone. ‘Sonnet 116,’ she thought. ‘Very romantic.’

His voice was smooth and unyielding, the passion causing him to rasp and slow at certain points. She decided listening to an aroused Jean-Luc Picard reciting poetry was her new favorite pastime.

“O no! it is an ever-fixed mark   
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;   
It is the star to every wand'ring bark,   
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.   
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks   
Within his bending sickle's compass come;”

Beverly moaned, looking up to see his eyes squeezed shut in pleasurable agony as he struggled through the sonnet. His cock was scolding her thigh, throbbing incessantly against it, his pre-cum dripping onto her. 

“Is it working?” he whispered hopefully, half-laughing at his own desperation.

“Oh yes,” she replied, kissing him passionately before breaking away. “Please, continue.”

Nodding, he swallowed and closed his eyes tight, trying to stay in control.

“Jean-Luc, open your eyes,” she demanded. “Stay with me.”

Swallowing, he followed her request, giving her a desperate look. “Are you close?” he asked, his fingers gliding lightly over her entire sex. The almost-not-there touch was driving her wild as he refused to give her any further friction, merely titillating the sensitive area further. “Are you close?” he repeated with a growl, demanding her response.

“Oh god, yes, can’t you feel it,” she sighed.

“I can feel it,” he affirmed, “but the challenge was to cum from my voice alone.”

She whined as he moved his hand away, running it over her inner thigh.

“Damn it, Jean-Luc,” she groaned. “Must you take me so literally!”

“Yes,” he snickered, his laugh reverberating through both their bodies.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were playing games with me,” she challenged, her face flushed with arousal.

“Aren’t you having fun?” he asked teasingly, smirking.

“Your smugness is not becoming,” she teased back, lowering a hand to pinch his bottom playfully. He squealed, then scolded her.

“Hey,” he grumbled, reaching back to grasp both her hands, holding them above her head. “Stay,” he commanded, his tone firm but his eyes soft and desperate.

“Is that an order, Captain?” she grinned, bending her leg so that her thigh glided smoothly over his shaft.

“Merde!” he cursed, burying his head in her shoulder, biting it lightly as he struggled to keep his grip on her wrists.

“Still want to test this theory, or are you ready to explore other possibilities?” she whispered seductively.

“Oh no, doctor,” he growled, touching his forehead to hers. “I intend to see this through to the bitter end.”

“Bitter?” she questioned, gasping at his intensity and determination.

“Bitter for both of us if we fail,” he replied, shifting to move his cock away from her teasing.

“I see,” she rasped. “Well, Captain, you should know … I’m not wrong.”

“We’ll see,” he whispered. “Only four lines to go,” he warned, swallowing hard before continuing the sonnet.

“Noted,” she gasped, looking deeply into his eyes, waiting.

“Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,” he began, ensuring his chest was in contact with hers so she could feel every rumble he made, every breath he took as held her gaze. “But bears it out even to the edge of doom.”

They both reacted to the line, feeling its weight and meaning, and the reality they were experiencing. In many ways, they felt on the edge of doom – what would happen after this night, this intimate experience. Seeing the worry in her eyes, Picard kissed her gently.

“If this be error and upon me prov'd,” he continued, his voice a strained whisper, “I never writ, nor no man ever lov'd.”

She could feel the intensity of his need, and behind it, the depth of his love for her.

“Jean-Luc,” she gasped, feeling herself trembling perilously on the edge.

“That was the last line,” he informed her. “Do you wish to declare defeat?”

“Never,” she smiled, “Can’t you feel how close I am. Just keep talking to me, just keep talking…”

“Mon coeur, je t’aime,” he replied in his native tongue, his voice cracking in desperation. “Mon amour, je t’aime, je t’aime, je t’aime.” He repeated the French phrases like a prayer, never breaking eye contact, yet refusing to do anything but speak the words he knew she wanted to hear.

“Yes, Jean-Luc…I …ohh… love you, too, I swear it,” she rasped, feeling as if his sheer will was bringing her closer to climax. Panting heavily, her mouth hung open in awe of him.

“Cum for me, Beverly,” he said breathlessly, an urgency in his eyes. It wasn’t a command – he was begging her, needing to know he could affect her this way. “Cum for me, love. Please.”

It was his last word – please – along with the desperate love in his eyes that somehow pushed her into orgasm. She felt a tingle deep inside, then a quiver, then a warmth flowing over her gently. 

“Oh yes,” she cried, shuddering against him, breathing hard.

“Yes… you’re cumming, yes, love?” he asked, his eyes hopeful and filled with wonder.

“Yes,” she gasped as her whole body began to shake.

“So beautiful,” he murmured, kissing her cheek hotly as he felt her release. Watching her face contort in pleasure, he groaned. Then he saw the tears. “Are you alright?” he asked hesitantly, finally releasing her wrists. Even though she had told him this often happened, he still wanted to make sure.

“I’m wonderful,” she smiled, a sob catching in her throat as she wrapped her arms around him. “Just hold me,” she pleaded, burying her head in his chest, cuddling him intimately.

“Je t’aime,” he repeated softly, over and over, kissing the top of her head as he stroked his hand up and down her back gently. He held her as she wept, her strong emotions moving him to tears yet again. 

“I knew it would be this way,” she murmured into his chest, kissing the skin over his heart. 

“I think we both knew,” he conceded, placing a finger under her chin, urging her to look up at him. “You are amazing,” he sighed, kissing her softly, then pulling her in tightly to him for a hug.

“It’s almost terrifying, what you make me feel,” she admitted, still breathing harshly.

“It is extraordinary,” he agreed, rocking her gently. Slowly, she pulled back, taking his head in her hands, cupping his face. 

“Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,” she said in a raspy voice, repeating one of the final phrases of the sonnet. “But bears it out … even to the edge of doom.”

“Beverly…”

“I will follow you to the end, Jean-Luc, I promise, wherever that may lead … even to the edge of doom.”

Her declaration tore at his heart, for he knew it may well seal her fate to a disastrous end. He was an explorer, and she would remain with him, despite everything. He would encounter danger, and she would be there by his side, to the bitter end. As she always had been all these years.

“Do not even think of dying without me,” he begged suddenly, overwhelmed by the weight of her words. It was as if he had a premonition, that he would lead her to her doom, yet his life be spared. It was what he feared most – having all of her so completely, then losing her.

Before she could respond, he had pulled her into his arms, clutching her tightly as they both sat up on the bed. Their legs wrapped around each other’s waists, his shaft hot and hard against her belly. And then he was crying again … crying until his ribs ached from the heaving sobs that shuddered through him. 

“Oh, Jean-Luc,” she whispered softly, her fingers running over the short hairs on the back of his head. She glanced at the chronometer on her dresser. “Only seven more hours,” she informed him, feeling him nod against her as he breathed heavily.

Letting out a deep sigh, he pulled back from her. She recognized the look he gave – she’d seen it when he examined some ancient artifact or work of art. She was touched to be placed in a similar category, and decided to try and lighten the mood.

“Well, Jean-Luc, it seems my theory proved true,” she began, wiping away his tears. “So, what do I win?”

“Win?” he asked, a quizzical smile forming on his lips.

“I just think you keep second guessing me, and I keep proving to right,” she explained teasingly, running a finger along his chest. “Don’t you think I deserve something in return?”

“Hmmm,” he pondered, smirking. “I suppose I did promise you that French kiss, didn’t I?”

TO BE CONTINUED...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EPISODE REFERENCE: “Allegiance” (S3) – Picard is replaced by a replicant as an alien race imprisons the real Picard to study him and other species they find interesting. “Fake” Picard romances Beverly and kisses her – it was one of the most lovely scenes they shared, but a pity it was his copy and not Jean-Luc. I always wondered how much she told him about that experience. Thought it was worth exploring more here.


	6. French Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is basically pure smut, with some romance/playfulness thrown in for good measure :) I mean honestly, these two deserve it ;)  
> Jean-Luc shows off his oral skills...Beverly tries to find ways to get them through the remaining hours...

Beverly felt a ripple of pleasure ease through her at Picard’s words as he stated his intention to make good on his promise of showing her this very special French kiss.

“Mmhmm,” she replied, raising her eyebrows and biting her lower lip.

“Well, since we have the time,” he teased, licking his lips seductively as he looked over her body. “Lie down, love,” he said, easing her back on to the bed. “Now, as I was saying, the giver of the French Kiss must have an enormous amount of patience, but so must the receiver,” he warned gently, giving her soft, quick pecks on the lips. 

“Indeed,” she replied, feeling her arousal heightening. Her previous release had been pleasant, but the emotional connection outweighed the physical relief she felt. Her body was still aching for more, and she had every confidence he would give it to her….eventually.

“Yes,” he affirmed, letting his lips brush her cheek, then down her neck, taunting her breasts for a moment before leisurely making his way to her stomach. He inhaled deeply, taking in her scent, closing his eyes momentarily.

“Jean-Luc?” she asked, noting the struggle on his face.

“Nearly three decades I’ve dreamed of this,” he confessed, blushing. “I’ve been dying to taste you, Beverly. I fear I may not have the patience required for this particular seduction.”

“I’m sure I’ll enjoy it either way,” she grinned, her thighs already trembling as she felt his breath wisp teasingly over her sex.

“I will ensure you enjoy it thoroughly,” he groaned. “Open yourself to me, Beverly. Let me see you.”

Spreading her thighs apart, she moaned as he placed a tentative kiss to her center, his hands resting on her parted thighs.

“Alright?” he whispered, looking up at her. She nodded, her expression urging him to continue. He shifted to the left, moving his hip to her thigh as he stretched out his hand in a gesture he’d made countless times before. She reached for him, grasping his hand in hers. But this time, instead of simply holding her hand, he entwined their fingers, clasping them firmly, keeping them connected. He looked up at her once more, seeking her consent. She could only nod, breathing heavily as she watched his tongue slip between his lips, darting out to lick at her wet, sensitive outer lips.

“Mmmm,” he groaned into her, the tip of his tongue gliding smoothly over her plump folds. “Just as I thought – absolutely decadent.” Over and over, he kept up the light contact until Beverly began crawling in her own skin, wriggling to get a firmer touch. He hushed her, keeping their hands clasped as he placed tantalizingly soft kisses along the top of her mons. When he brushed his lips up and down her outer lips, Beverly shuddered, panting in anticipation.

“Jean-Luc, I thought this was called a French kiss,” she began, near breathless as he continued his sweet torment. 

“Mmhmm,” he murmured into her pussy, his lips resting just below her clit, which began to peak out from its hood.

She looked down at him fiercely, squinting as she made direct eye contact. If this was the game he wanted to play, she’d show him she was no amateur. 

“Well, then, Jean-Luc,” she replied in a strong voice, “why the hell isn’t your tongue inside me?” 

His eyes widened and he couldn’t help the muffled laugh that escaped right against her throbbing sex. Beverly smirked, arching an eyebrow as she enjoyed his smile against her tender flesh.

“Patience,” he responded in a low tone, never breaking contact with her pussy as his lips continued their journey. “Let me explore.”

Releasing a heavy breath, Beverly threw her head back against the pillow and smiled as he continued to leave soft pecks along her agitated flesh. When she felt his right hand part her outer lips, she sucked in air quickly, looking back down, her brow furrowed in arousal and slight trepidation. Picard locked eyes with her reassuringly as he ran his tongue brazenly up her center.

Lick. Lick. Lick.

“Oh, oh god,” she panted, unable to break his gaze, clutching his hand tighter.

“Easy, Bev,” he sighed, placing a soft kiss just above her wet opening. “Just relax. Don’t fight it. Let it happen slowly. It’ll be worth it, I promise.”

Beverly noticed he was studying her reactions carefully as he placed a nip here, a gentle suck there. Biting her lip, she used her other hand to caress his bald head, tracing tender patterns along his skull, which seemed to please him. He would occasionally utter a small moan or chuckle of pleasure as she drifted down to his ear or the base of his neck, tickling him lightly. 

It was a sweet torture he was putting her through, but she knew he was suffering an agony of his own. That was what this had been about, wasn’t it? Easing his emotional and physical torment, keeping it at bay by whatever means necessary. But now that she had him like this, she knew she would never be able to let him go. Tears filled her eyes as she stared down at him lovingly lapping at her center. His eyes were concentrated on her sex now. His tongue nestled into the area just below her clit, and right above her urethra. Slowly, he began pushing the tip against the soft flesh, then slipped his tongue down lightly to lap up the wetness his ministrations had produced.

“You’re very good at this,” Beverly whispered hoarsely, squeezing his hand to get his attention.

Picard looked up over her flat belly to see her half-sitting up, her breasts rising and falling with her rapid breaths. He could see the pink tinge on her chest that rose up her throat and darkened her cheeks. Her mouth was open as she panted, her eyes dark with pleasure. Resting his chin just above her mons, he drew up his right hand to caress her breast, meeting her gaze as he trailed kisses along her inner thigh.

“You are remarkable,” he rasped, his voice heavy with arousal. She noticed his pert buttocks begin to shift, then fall into a rhythm. 

“Jean-Luc … are you … alright?” she breathed out, noting how desperately he was brushing his cock against the now wet fabric of her comforter. He looked up for a moment, his mouth glistening with her essence, as he realized what she had caught him doing.

“I ache,” he admitted, “but it’s worth it.” Diving back down, he softly suckled, drawing her juices from her body.

“Enjoying your meal?” she asked salaciously, arching an eyebrow.

“Best breakfast ever,” he half-laughed, noting the time. 

“Breakfast?” she asked with a smile, glancing at the chronometer. It was nearly 0900. 

“Shit,” she muttered, shifting slightly to reach for her communicator.

“Beverly?” he questioned, his brow furrowed.

“I’m supposed to be on duty,” she reminded him, angry that she’d forgotten to check into Sick Bay – he’d been too damn distracting. Picard stared at her blankly, in disbelief that he had somehow forgotten about her duties. She was the chief medical officer of a starship – his starship – and yet it slipped his mind that he just may be making her late.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, kissing her sex one last time in apology as he began to sit up.

“Oh, no you don’t!” she reproved him, moving her hand to his head, directing him lower. “I was planning on letting Alyssa know I’d be taking personal time today,” she explained, still highly aroused. 

“Oh,” Picard replied, at first having no reaction, then, processing her words, displayed a large, toothy grin as he let his lips glide over her thigh, his hand stroking up and down her beautiful, long legs.

“Now stop that,” she whispered in a warning tone, holding up her communicator. He gave her an innocent look, shrugging as he continued to run his hand along her muscled calf. She sighed, shaking her head with a smile as she pressed down on the communicator. “Crusher to Ogowa.”

“Yes, doctor,” the nurse’s voice called.

“I, um…I won’t – Ohhh,” she moaned as Picard wickedly flicked his tongue twice over her hardened clit, shocking her with his lusty playfulness. 

“Are you alright, doctor?” Ogowa responded. 

Beverly gave her Captain a wide-eyed glare, shaking her head. “I’m fine, Alyssa, but I was hoping to take a-ahhhh…”

Beverly stuttered as Picard chose that exact moment to ease the tip of his tongue just inside her moist entrance, teasing the first centimeters of her flesh in a quick circling motion. She bit her lip, her hand pushing his head away as she mouthed, ‘Not now!’

“Doctor?”

“A personal day,” she said almost breathlessly. By the pause, Beverly knew Alyssa was beginning to become suspicious.

“Of course, doctor,” she replied cheerfully. “But what of the Captain? You said you would be monitoring his condition?”

Picard and Beverly locked eyes as she searched for an answer. 

“Yes, I am,” she said matter-of-factly. 

“But I thought you said you were taking a personal-”

“I don’t care what you write down, Alyssa, just know that I have the Captain under supervision and will not be reporting for duty until tomorrow afternoon.”

“Understood,” Ogowa replied formally, but Beverly could hear the hint of interest in her voice. She would be under some scrutiny tomorrow.

“Thank you, Alyssa. Crusher out.”

Beverly blew out a deep breath, slamming her communicator on her dresser. Looking down at Picard, she reached around and smacked his ass firmly.

“What the hell, Jean-Luc?!” she half-laughed as he yelped and squirmed at her discipline, her face flushed and wet with perspiration. “Do you want the whole ship knowing?”

“Maybe I do,” he smirked, moving down to kiss her ankle, his lips venturing up her smooth, strong leg.

“That’s the chemicals talking,” she sighed, squeezing his hand. Neither of them wanted to let go of their grasp.

“Maybe,” he muttered, kissing his way up to her inner thigh before looking at her. “But quiet honestly, Beverly, I’m getting tired of keeping my love for you a secret. I’m not sure I can anymore.”

With that, he ducked his head down and surprised her as his mouth engulfed her sex and sucked hard, then released, repeating the process over and over until he heard her scream out in need.

“Jean-Luc, please!” she begged. 

“I am pleasing you, aren’t I, Beverly?” he asked in a sexy growl as he parted her outer lips again and flickered his tongue teasingly over her quivering opening. “I can taste your pleasure,” he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Fuck!” she cursed, her eyes wild, her red hair in disarray as it fell haphazardly around her shoulders.

“I intend to,” he growled, and she could feel him grinning against her sex, his fingers holding her open as his tongue finally slid inside her.

“Oh-oh-OH!” she cried out, unable to take her eyes off the obscene sight. She could see his tongue gliding in and out of her, feeling its way along her grooves and ridges, teasing her nerve endings. Just as she was reaching her peak, he slowed down, wriggling his tongue out of her and licking just above her opening. Staring up at her, he felt warmth spread through his chest, his genitals aching at the sight of her flushed form writhing under his ministrations. Precum was making the bedspread slippery, as his tip slid back and forth, throbbing incessantly. His entire head was bright red with exertion and pleasure, sweat dripping down onto her stomach and thighs.

“You are amazing,” he groaned into her, sitting up on his knees to grasp her bottom to pull her more fully to his lips. She cried out in surprise, looking down as he devoured her softness, lapping up her juices like a man consumed by thirst. She also had a full view of his cock, which stuck out red, rock hard and wet. With every thrust of his tongue inside her, she saw his cock throb forward, aching to change places with his mouth. But Picard was determined, and Beverly was shocked at how tightly she was wound.

“Jean-Luc,” she breathed out, panting uncontrollably. He looked up to see her face near panicked.

“Shhh,” he whispered, smoothing his thumb over her clit.

“It’s too much,” she gasped, near tears.

“I know, I know, just let it happen, Bev,” he encouraged, placing a hot kiss over her opening before his tongue slid into her wetness again. His hand squeezed hers as he locked into her gaze, the love and intensity sending her hurtling over the edge.

Beverly opened her mouth but no sound came out as she felt sharp heat shooting through her center. Her other hand gripped the bed as her body trembled, then shook as quick pulsing contractions rippled inside her. A tear ran down her cheek as she shuddered through her release – then she felt it, that odd pressure building up inside her.

“Jean-Luc,” she rasped, trying to warn him.

“I know,” he whispered in a hoarse voice, suddenly inserting two fingers inside her, pressing and rubbing along the top of her canal. He groaned, feeling her heat clenching on his fingers. “It’s alright,” he gasped, encouraging her, “Let it happen.”

Unable to keep her eyes open any longer, she threw her head back and screamed, her body convulsing wildly as she squirted, covering his mouth, chest and the sheets with her violent release.

Continuing to lap at her, Picard slowed the movement of his fingers, then sped back up again, keeping her spasming in pleasure for several minutes until she reached down to push his hand away.

“Oh god, Jean-Luc, please…enough…” she panted, trying to catch her breath and draw him close to her. Reluctantly, he removed his fingers and gave her one last long lick before kissing her thighs and easing his hand over her trembling stomach. His lips trailed over her hip, up her taut belly, kissing the side of her breast before finally resting gently on her flushed cheek. Their fingers were still entangled.

“So beautiful,” he whispered, kissing her lips softly. Beverly met his kiss, breathing hard, her body still trembling.

“That was … Jean-Luc…” she whimpered, feeling overcome, unable to say anymore as she buried her head in his chest, resting her hand on his stomach as she wept. Picard wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close, wondering if he would ever get used to her crying without it tearing at his heart, but was comforted when he saw she was smiling through her tears.

“Hey there,” he whispered, kissing her temple. “You alright, Bev?”

She nodded, wiping her eyes as she looked up at him with a huge grin. 

“That was some French Kiss,” she remarked, leaning up to kiss him on the lips, wiping her wetness from his face. 

“My pleasure,” he smiled back at her, bringing her hand up to his lips for a kiss, then resting it over his heart. Beverly sat up suddenly, startled.

“Jean-Luc, your heartbeat is much too accelerated,” she said with concern, reaching for her tricorder.

“It’s mechanical,” he shrugged. “I’m sure I’m fine, though I can’t remember it ever beating this quickly before. Wonder why that is?” he asked teasingly.

“Jean-Luc,” she sighed, shaking her head, “you need to calm down. Breath with me.”

Placing her hand on his abdomen, and his hand on hers, and began a slow “4, 7, 8” breathing pattern. Four beats drawing air, seven beats holding, eight letting the air out of their lungs. It took him three passes to sync with her, and after several minutes Beverly seemed satisfied with its effect.

“Better, doctor?” he asked, still covered in sweat.

“Well, it’ll do for now,” she said quietly, looking him up and down. 

“How much longer?” he asked, a hint of desperation in his voice as he stretched, wincing as he looked down at his aching cock.

“Five hours,” sighed, giving him a sympathetic look as he gave her a worried look. He was suddenly near tears, desperate. “What is it?”

“Before, I was distracted by … uhh, by you … but now, now it’s as if … as if those images of you that are now burned in my mind are tormenting me … the taste of you, the way you felt beneath my lips … the way you… oh, Beverly…”

She had slid her hand over his stomach down to his erection, trying to ease him.

“I’m sorry,” she rasped, kissing his lips softly as she eased her fingers over his shaft. The heat of it nearly scorched her as she felt it throbbing under her hand.

“Ohh, Bev,” he moaned, shutting his eyes at the sensation, arching his hips to her touch.

“Just hold on a little longer,” she encouraged, slicking her thumb lightly over his frenulum, her hand rubbing over his flat belly.

“Don’t stop,” he begged, arching his back, holding right at the precipice.

Despite her recent orgasm, she felt a gush of wetness ease from her at the sight of him. ‘He is so beautiful like this,’ she thought, watching his face contort in intense pleasurable agony, crying out her name over and over. He was vulnerable, completely open to her and aching under her touch. She found everything about him tantalizing, and couldn’t resist leaning down to lick at one of his hardened nipples.

“MERDE!” he shouted, and she knew she’d struck a nerve. Smiling against his chest, she gave his nipple soft, light, teasing licks as her hand continued its slow ministrations. His cries became more desperate, his hips wriggling, seeking more of her touch. She could feel his heartbeat ramping up again, and frowned, pulling away from him.

“PLEASE!” he begged, his cock thrusting into the air desperately, his eyes wide and pleading into hers as she released him. “Why … why did you stop?” he asked, near tears.

“Jean-Luc,” she whispered hoarsely, cupping his cheek, “your heart…”

“Is fine,” he whispered, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand as he took several deep breaths. “It’s mechanical. It can take it.”

“I’m only torturing you,” she contended, saddened that she couldn’t bring him to the pleasure he had so lovingly coaxed her to a short while before.

“It feels good,” he reassured her, kissing her gently. “I appreciate your concern, Beverly, but there’s no need. The closer I am to you, the more connected I am to you, the better I feel.”

“But-”

“It is frustrating,” he admitted with a sigh, looking down at his aching member. “But without you, without your touch, it becomes almost unbearable.”

Nodding, she looked up at him, near tears herself. “I want to help you through this,” she affirmed, reaching down to grasp his hardness. She shifted suddenly, hooking a leg around his as she straddled him, bringing his cock into contact with her softness.

“Beverly!” he whispered harshly, as if scolded by her touch.

“You said you wanted to be connected,” she reminded him, running his length teasingly up and down her outer lips. His hips began buck, his whole body shaking at the prospect of what she was going to do next.

“Beverly,” he breathed out desperately. “I only meant … ohhh….for you to…to touch me.”

“What’s wrong?” she asked seriously, removing her hand, letting his cock rest against her flat stomach.

Flushed and sweat-drenched, he shook his head. “If you … if you do this, I’m not sure I can control myself … I don’t want to hurt you…”

“I understand,” she smiled, “but I think you underestimate yourself … and me.”

“Beverly-”

“Do you trust me?”

“Implicitly.”

“Then do your best to follow my lead, Jean-Luc,” she whispered, kissing him gently. 

“Is that an order, doctor?” he half-laughed, his body trembling nervously.

“Yes,” she said firmly, kissing him again, more passionately this time.

“Aye, sir,” he sighed, giving in to whatever she was about to do.

“I admit, Jean-Luc, I had hesitations, this being our first time, but right now we both need this I think. It’s not just about getting you through this – I want to show you how much … how deeply I … oh, Jean-Luc…”

She leaned down to kiss him deeply, her cheeks wet with fresh tears. He smoothed them away with his thumbs as he cupped her face.

“Alright, love,” he whispered. “But promise me, if something happens, if I … lose control … that you’ll make sure you can stop me.”

“I don’t think I’ll want to, but I do have a hypospray handy in case – it should calm you down a bit if necessary,” she informed him. 

“Five hours,” he sighed, his brow furrowed with worry and anticipation. “I don’t think I’ve ever …”

“Shhh,” she whispered, placing a finger on his lips. “We’ll take it nice and slow. You tell me if you need me to stop.”

“Never,” he rasped, bringing his lips to hers in an open-mouthed kiss. “It’s you I worry for – please, Beverly, don’t let me hurt you. I never want to hurt you again – I couldn’t bear it.”

“We’ll be alright,” she replied with a strength he recognized and admired. They were finally going to become one. Picard shook with anticipation, unsure of how he would stand it, only knowing how grateful he was that she was here with him. Giving her a toothy grin, he ran his fingers through her hair, drawing her down to his mouth.

“Make it so,” he rasped with a smile, loving the feel of her laugh against him as she slid her hand down his stomach. 

TO BE CONTINUED…


End file.
